In spite of her words, she somehow comes off as being thoroughly，
going round and bringing me to death. That is all I see, for that
alone is true. All else is false.
The two drops of honey which diverted my eyes from the cruel
truth longer than the rest: my love of family, and of writing --
art as I called it -- were no longer sweet to me.
"Family"...said I to myself. But my family -- wife and
children -- are also human. They are placed just as I am: they
must either live in a lie or see the terrible truth. Why should
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