38/62 My poor friend, nothing lasts forever, and the truest love is sometimes as perishable as the loveliest rose--the most exquisite dream. But it is not to say that because it is over we are to deny that it ever existed. You may not feel anything now, but that is no reason for declaring that you did not feel it then. You thought you were in love, and therefore you were. It is sophistry to try to persuade oneself of the contrary in after days." "You are a brilliant advocate of your views, Madame la Comtesse, but nevertheless may one take a momentary delusion--" "Delusion' And who shall say, my German philosopher, if our whole existence may not be a delusion ?" "Ah, there you drive my philosophy very hard," murmured Wilhelm. |