"It may bea lack of sympathy in myself if it does not make any great difference to methat she is dead. Life had a great deal to offer her. I think it's terriblethat she should have been deprived of it in that cruel way, and I am ashamedbecause I do not really care. "

"You havenot the courage of your convictions. Life has no value. Blanche Stroeve didn'tcommit suicide because I left her, but because she was a foolish and unbalancedwoman. But we've talked about her quite enough; she was an entirely unimportantperson. Come, and I'll show you my pictures. "

He spoke asthough I were a child that needed to be distracted. I was sore, but not withhim so much as with myself. I thought of the happy life that pair had led inthe cosy studio in Montmartre, Stroeve and his wife, their simplicity,kindness, and hospitality; it seemed to me cruel that it should have beenbroken to pieces by a ruthless chance; but the cruellest thing of all was thatin fact it made no great difference. The world went on, and no one was a pennythe worse for all that wretchedness. I had an idea that Dirk, a man of greateremotional reactions than depth of feeling, would soon forget; and Blanche'slife, begun with who knows what bright hopes and what dreams, might just aswell have never been lived. It all seemed useless and inane.

“如果说她死了对我一点儿也无所谓，那我也未免太没有人心了。生活能够给她的东西很多，她这样残酷地被剥夺去生命，我认为是一件非常可怕的事。但是我也觉得很惭愧，因为说实在的，我并不太关心。”

“你没有勇气坦白承认你真正的思想。生命并没有什么价值。勃朗什·施特略夫自杀并不是因为我抛弃了她，而是因为她太傻，因为她精神不健全。但是咱们谈论她已经够多的了，她实在是个一点也不重要的角色。来吧，我让你看看我的画。”

他说话的样子，倒好象我是个小孩子，需要他把我的精神岔开似的。我气得要命，但与其说是对他倒不如说对我自己。我回想起这一对夫妻——施特略夫同他的妻子，在蒙特玛特尔区一间舒适的画室中过的幸福生活，他们两人淳朴、善良、殷勤好客，这种生活竟由于一件无情的偶然事件被打得粉碎，我觉得这真是非常残忍的；但是最最残忍的还是，这件事对别人并没有什么影响。人们继续生活下去，谁也没有因为这个悲剧而活得更糟。我猜想，就连戴尔克不久也会把这件事遗忘，因为尽管他反应强烈，一时悲恸欲绝，感情却没有深度。至于勃朗什自己，不论她最初步入生活时曾怀有何等美妙的希望与梦想，死了以后，同她根本没有降临人世又有什么两样？一切都是空虚的，没有意义的。