Nothing can make me forget her.

I have never consoled myself for her loss.

And that is not all, terrible doubts about Albert occurred to me.

Was I really his father?
Can you understand what my punishment was, when I thought to myself, 'I have perhaps sacrificed my own son to the child of an utter stranger.' This thought made me hate the bastard who called himself Commarin.

To my great affection for him succeeded an unconquerable aversion.