In his consolations the sensual element betrays itself more
and more strongly._] Nellie! Look at me; let those things be. Let me be
your consolation, I needn't talk to you about your sister. [_He embraces
her more firmly. Passionately and feelingly._] Oh, if she were what you
are!... But as it is ... tell me: what can she be to me? Did you ever
hear of a man, Nellie, of a cultured man whose wife--[_he almost
whispers_]--is a prey to such an unhappy passion? One is afraid to utter
it aloud: a woman--and--brandy ... Now, do you think I am any happier?...
Think of my little Freddie! Well, am I, when all's said, any better off
than you are?... [_With increasing passion._] And so, you see, fate has
done us one kindness anyhow. It has brought us together. And we belong
together. Our equal sorrows have predestined us to be friends. Isn't it
so, Nellie?
[_He puts his arms wholly around her. She permits it but with an
expression which shows that she forces herself to mere endurance. She
has grown quite silent and seems, with quivering tension of soul, to
be awaiting some certainty, some consummation that is inevitably
approaching._
HOFFMANN
[_Tenderly.
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