Supposing all that to be true--how can it be possible that
I still think her my equal?
GUSTAV. Hallucination--the hypnotising power of skirts! Or--the
two of you may actually have become equals. The levelling process
has been finished. Her capillarity has brought the water in both
tubes to the same height.--Tell me [taking out his watch]: our
talk has now lasted six hours, and your wife ought soon to be
here. Don't you think we had better stop, so that you can get a
rest?
ADOLPH. No, don't leave me! I don't dare to be alone!
GUSTAV. Oh, for a little while only--and then the lady will come.
ADOLPH. Yes, she is coming!--It's all so queer! I long for her,
but I am afraid of her. She pets me, she is tender to me, but
there is suffocation in her kisses--something that pulls and
numbs. And I feel like a circus child that is being pinched by the
clown in order that it may look rosy-cheeked when it appears
before the public.
GUSTAV. I feel very sorry for you, my friend. Without being a
physician, I can tell that you are a dying man. It is enough to
look at your latest pictures in order to see that.
ADOLPH. You think so? How can you see it?
GUSTAV.
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