"I had determined and was convinced that I could and ought. It was
not my original intention to deceive, as I have deceived you. I
meant to tell my tale plainly, and make my proposals openly: and it
appeared to me so absolutely rational that I should be considered
free to love and be loved, I never doubted some woman might be found
willing and able to understand my case and accept me, in spite of
the curse with which I was burdened."
"Well, sir?"
"When you are inquisitive, Jane, you always make me smile. You open
your eyes like an eager bird, and make every now and then a restless
movement, as if answers in speech did not flow fast enough for you,
and you wanted to read the tablet of one's heart. But before I go
on, tell me what you mean by your 'Well, sir?' It is a small phrase
very frequent with you; and which many a time has drawn me on and on
through interminable talk: I don't very well know why."
"I mean,--What next? How did you proceed? What came of such an
event?"
"Precisely! and what do you wish to know now?"
"Whether you found any one you liked: whether you asked her to
marry you; and what she said."
"I can tell you whether I found any one I liked, and whether I asked
her to marry me: but what she said is yet to be recorded in the
book of Fate. For ten long years I roved about, living first in one
capital, then another: sometimes in St. Petersburg; oftener in
Paris; occasionally in Rome, Naples, and Florence. Provided with
plenty of money and the passport of an old name, I could choose my
own society: no circles were closed against me. I sought my ideal
of a woman amongst English ladies, French countesses, Italian
signoras, and German grafinnen. I could not find her. Sometimes,
for a fleeting moment, I thought I caught a glance, heard a tone,
beheld a form, which announced the realisation of my dream: but I
was presently undeserved. You are not to suppose that I desired
perfection, either of mind or person. I longed only for what suited
me--for the antipodes of the Creole: and I longed vainly. Amongst
them all I found not one whom, had I been ever so free, I--warned as
I was of the risks, the horrors, the loathings of incongruous
unions--would have asked to marry me. Disappointment made me
reckless. I tried dissipation--never debauchery: that I hated, and
hate. That was my Indian Messalina's attribute: rooted disgust at
it and her restrained me much, even in pleasure. Any enjoyment that
bordered on riot seemed to approach me to her and her vices, and I
eschewed it.