And at the same time I felt that I could not possess this body, that it was not mine, that she could do with it as she liked, and that she liked to do with it as I did not like.

And I was powerless against him and against her.

He, like the Vanka of the song, would sing, before mounting the gallows, how he would kiss her sweet lips, etc., and he would even have the best of it before death.

With her it was still worse.

If she HAD NOT DONE IT, she had the desire, she wished to do it, and I knew that she did.