Lillie, who never told even a conventional falsehood, who watched over
her children like an old-fashioned mother, careful of what they read and
what plays they saw, how could she have carried on, unknown to you and
to them, an intrigue with another man? Impossible, impossible, dear
Professor! I do not say that your ears played you false as to the words
she spoke, but you must have put a wrong interpretation upon them.

Not once, but thousands of times, Lillie has spoken to me about you. She
loved and honoured you. You were her ideal as man, husband, and father.
She was proud of you. Having no personal vanity or ambition, like so
many good women, her pride and hopes were all centred in you.

She used literally to become eloquent on the subject of your operations;
and I need hardly remind you how carefully she followed your work. She
studied Latin in order to understand your scientific books, while, in
spite of her natural repulsion from the sight of such things, she
attended your anatomy classes and demonstrations.

When Lillie said, "I love Schlegel, and have loved him for years," her
words did not mean "And all that time my love for you was extinct."

No, Lillie cared for Schlegel and for you too. The whole question is so
simple, and at the same time so complicated.

Probably you are saying to yourself: "A woman must love one man or the
other." With some show of reason, you will argue: "In leaving my house,
at any rate, she proved at the moment that Schlegel alone claimed her
affection."