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184
JENNY

the consequences of acting contrary to your understanding—are always far from sweet. I mean that my experiences have made my life in a way richer and deeper than a lesser misfortune might have done—since it was my fate not to attain the greatest happiness. I have a feeling that once it will be the case in a still higher degree, and will help me to understand the real meaning of life.

"In your case, I meant it in a different way. Even if your happiness proved to be of a passing nature, it was pure and guiltless while it lasted, because you believed in it implicitly and enjoyed it without any mental reservation. You deceived nobody but yourself."

Jenny did not speak. She would have had a great deal to say in opposition, but she felt dimly that he would not understand her.

"Don't you remember Ibsen's words:

"'Though I ram my ship aground, it was grand to sail the seas'?"

"I am surprised at you, Gert, for repeating those idiotic words. Nowadays we have too great a feeling of responsibility and too much self-esteem, most of us, to accept that kind of reasoning. If I am wrecked and sink, I will try not to wince, if I know that I have not run my ship aground myself. As far as I understand, the best sailors prefer to go down with their ship if the fault is theirs, rather than survive the disaster."

"I am of the opinion that, as a rule, one can thank oneself for every misfortune," said Gram, smiling, "but that one can nearly always draw some spiritual benefit out of it."

"I agree with you on the first point—and on the second on the condition that the misfortune does not consist in the diminution of one's self-esteem."

"You should not take this so seriously. You are quite excited and bitter. I remember what you said on the day Helge