It was quite clear to her, since she had failed so totally, that she should have had patience, that she ought to have accepted gratefully the man's offer of brotherly devotion, and trusted in time to bring about a further and less platonic development.
But she was equally sure that she could never have found the patience, and that if she had restrained herself to-day she would have given way to-morrow.

She possessed all the blind indifference to consequences which is a chief characteristic of the Slav nature when dominated by passion.

She had shone it in her rash readiness to face Israel Kafka at the moment of leaving her own home.

If she could not have what she longed for, she cared as little what became of her as she cared for Kafka's own fate.

She had but one object, one passion, one desire, and to all else her indifference was supreme.