Chapter 27 - Page 2

heavily than ever,
refusing to let go. This unexpected obstacle, this burden, and this
repugnant touch only irritated me the more. I perceived that I was
completely mad, that I must be frightful, and I was glad of it. With
a sudden impulse, and with all my strength, I dealt her, with my left
elbow, a blow squarely in the face.

"She uttered a cry and let go my arm. I wanted to follow the other, but
I felt that it would be ridiculous to pursue in my stockings the lover
of my wife, and I did not wish to be grotesque, I wished to be terrible.
In spite of my extreme rage, I was all the time conscious of the
impression that I was making upon others, and even this impression
partially guided me.

"I turned toward her. She had fallen on the long easy chair, and,
covering her face at the spot where I had struck her, she looked at me.
Her features exhibited fear and hatred toward me, her enemy, such as the
rat exhibits when one lifts the rat-trap. At least, I saw nothing in her
but that fear and hatred, the fear and hatred which love for another had
provoked. Perhaps I still should have restrained myself, and should
not have gone to the last extremity, if she had maintained silence. But
suddenly she began to speak; she grasped my hand that held the dagger.

"'Come to your senses! What are you doing? What is the matter with you?
Nothing has happened, nothing, nothing! I swear it to you!'

"I might have delayed longer, but these last words, from which I
inferred the contrary of what they affirmed,--that is, that EVERYTHING
had happened,--these words called for a reply. And the reply must
correspond to the condition into which I had lashed myself, and which
was increasing and must continue to increase. Rage has its laws.

"'Do not lie, wretch. Do not lie!' I roared.

"With my left hand I seized her hands. She disengaged herself. Then,
without dropping my dagger, I seized her by the throat, forced her to
the floor, and began to strangle her. With her two hands she clutched
mine, tearing them from her throat, stifling. Then I struck her a blow
with the dagger, in the left side, between the lower ribs.

"When people say that they do not remember what they do in a fit of
fury, they talk nonsense. It is false. I remember everything.

"I did not lose my consciousness for a single moment. The more I lashed
myself to fury, the clearer my mind became, and I could not help seeing
what I did. I cannot say that I knew in advance what I would do, but at
the moment when I acted, and it seems to me even a little before, I knew
what I was doing, as if to make it possible to repent, and to be able to
say later that I could have stopped.

"I knew that I