"I mean to say that we are husband and wife."

Helena looked at him as if she thought that he had taken leave of his
senses.

"Explain your words!" she said.

That was just what he couldn't do. Philosophy and ethics failed him;
he was faced by a cold and exceedingly unpleasant reality.

"It's modesty," he thought. "She's quite right, but I must attack and
do my duty."

"Have you misunderstood me?" asked Helena and her voice trembled.

"No, of course not, but, my dear child, h'm--we--h'm...."

"What language is that? Dear child? What do you take me for? What do
you mean? Albert, Albert!"--she rushed on without waiting for a reply,
which she didn't want--"Be great, be noble, and learn to see in women
something more than sex. Do that, and you will be happy and great!"

Albert was beaten. Crushed with shame and furious with his false
friend who had counselled him wrongly, he threw himself on his knees
before her and stammered:

"Forgive me, Helena, you are nobler, purer, better than I; you are
made of finer fibre and you will lift me up when I threaten to perish
in coarse matter."