How would that even have been possible?

She was declining visibly. She placed herself in the care of her son-inlaw, who administered an arsenic treatment to fire up her animal spirits, already inordinately overheated in my view, to a still greater pitch. She now often gave off a garlicky odor due to transpiration of arsenic through the skin, her eyes glowed still more brightly and ardently than before, sudden flush alternated with sudden pallor behind her enameled mask; one day she collapsed with symptoms resembling those of stroke. I hastened to her bed, shed tears, nursed her devotedly, and thought, with a feeling of deliverance in my heart of hearts, that this was the end. I gave her an injection of morphine from a small Pravaz syringe. This did her good. I wanted to make it as easy as possible for her. Unfortunately we were all fooled, my father, her daughter, my son-in-law, and I. We had not recognized her superhuman toughness. She was one of those people who are still hiking long distances at eighty and outdoing the fifty-year-olds at ninety. She recovered. She became healthier than she had been before. She traveled with her daughter to a spa, and I entertained the absurd hope that some happenstance would save me from our reunion.

And yet I did not hate her.

IX

My wife had been looking forward to a romantic spring and was very reproachful toward me for not going along on this trip. But how could I have gone? I longed for nothing so much as to be relieved of the burden of her presence for as long as possible.

But it was not a good time for me nevertheless. My creditors did not leave my heels, they constantly forced me to dodge them, to pretend to be someone else on the telephone, to rearrange my whole life, to do everything I could to fend off their all-too-legitimate demands. Some of them professed to be agreeable to a refund without interest, others to an out-of-court settlement, but I could not think about it. And yet I had no prospect of ever being entirely rid of them. Some of them were highly impertinent and threatened me with all sorts of things. But that got them nowhere.

I was no longer so welcome at the club. Ugly rumors about me were circulating. It was said that I was unreliable and greedy as a physician, had tortured animals for no reason, had sprayed eau de cologne in their eyes, had secretly borrowed (stolen) dogs from my acquaintances, had destroyed their vocal cords before the experiments to stop them from howling, and so forth. It was said that I had squeezed the last remnants (!) of my wife’s fortune out of her by abusing her sadistically, having first hypnotized her and deprived her of the faculty of volition. It was said that my scientific work was done by other, more talented persons in exchange for payment. It was said that I had subjected people as well as animals to pointless and excruciating experiments in my clinic and had extricated myself from criminal action brought by the surviving dependents of my victims only at great financial sacrifice (allegedly the cause of my money problems). I was never able to pin down the source of these defamatory rumors. It must have been someone close to me, in all likelihood my stepdaughter’s husband. My letters to my wife were never taken seriously, that is to say, never properly answered. I wrote every day, yet received plaintive letters in which she reproached me for never thinking of her. What was I to do?

Wrenched from my usual occupation (I had had to stop my experiments because my funds were totally depleted, and just when I had nearly isolated Toxin Y, a whitish hygroscopic crystal), I wandered about the city in search of novelty. I had shaken off the sisters.