Publisher's Synopsis
"MADEMOISELLE ALBERTINE has gone!" How much farther does anguish penetrate inpsychology than psychology itself! A moment ago, as I lay analysing my feelings, I hadsupposed that this separation without a final meeting was precisely what I wished, and, as Icompared the mediocrity of the pleasures that Albertine afforded me with the richness ofthe desires which she prevented me from realising, had felt that I was being subtle, hadconcluded that I did not wish to see her again, that I no longer loved her. But now thesewords: "Mademoiselle Albertine has gone!" had expressed themselves in my heart in theform of an anguish so keen that I would not be able to endure it for any length of time. Andso what I had supposed to mean nothing to me was the only thing in my whole life. Howignorant we are of ourselves. The first thing to be done was to make my anguish cease atonce. Tender towards myself as my mother had been towards my dying grandmother, Isaid to myself with that anxiety which we feel to prevent a person whom we love fromsuffering: "Be patient for just a moment, we shall find something to take the pain away, don't fret, we are not going to allow you to suffer like this." It was among ideas of this sortthat my instinct of self-preservation sought for the first sedatives to lay upon my openwound: "All this is not of the slightest importance, for I am going to make her return here atonce. I must think first how I am to do it, but in any case she will be here this evening.Therefore, it is useless to worry myself." "All this is not of the slightest importance," I hadnot been content with giving myself this assurance, I had tried to convey the sameimpression to Françoise by not allowing her to see what I was suffering, because, even atthe moment when I was feeling so keen an anguish, my love did not forget how important itwas that it should appear a happy love, a mutual love, especially in the eyes of Françoise, who, as she disliked Albertine, had always doubted her sincerity
