1913 English edition, translated from the German by Elsie Schleussner
Concluding Remarks Of The Author
This is a terrible book, I fully admit it, and I regret that I ever wrote it.
How did I come to write it?
I had to wash my corpse before it was laid in its coffin.
Four years ago, if I remember rightly, a friend of mine, a writer, a declared enemy of the indiscretions— of others—said to me one day when talking about my first marriage—
"Do you know, it would make excellent copy for the sort of novel which I should like to write."
Certain of my friend's applause, I decided there and then to write it myself.
"Don't be angry with me, dear old fellow, that I, as the original owner, make use of my property."
I also remember, it is twelve years ago now, a remark my future mother-in-law made to me one evening when I was watching her daughter carrying on a flirtation with a group of young men—
"Wouldn't she make a splendid heroine for a novel?"
"With what title?"
"A passionate woman!"
Happy mother, who died in the nick of time, I have carried out your suggestion. The novel has been written. I can die in peace.
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