Translated by Zhang Bao on August 28, 2018

Knowing that Mrs. Malrad was suffering from a heart attack, Karl Halscher stood at the window and waited, carefully trying to inform her of her husband's death as gently as possible.

She heard her sister Josephine half-hide this news and reveal it to her in an extremely cryptic tone. Her husband's friend Richards was also around. He was working at the newspaper, and when he saw reports of the railway disaster, Brantre Malrad's name was at the top of the list of "victims." It was only after receiving the second telegram that he believed the news to be accurate, and hastened to prevent a friend from doing something rash and reckless upon hearing the bad news.

She, like many other women, was shocked and found unacceptable to such a thing. She fell into her sister's arms in despair and immediately burst into tears. When the storm of grief died down, she left the room alone. She won't let anyone follow her.

She stood in front of the open window, by which there was a large comfortable armchair. She collapsed into her chair and felt like she was sinking, and the extreme exhaustion seemed to have touched her heart, making her feel a little breathless.

She could see the canopy of trees fluttering in the new spring in the spacious square in front of the house, and the wonderful smell of rain and dew filled the air.

On the street below, a hawker was shouting loudly. Someone was singing a song in the distance, and the sound of the song made her feel a little dizzy as she listened. And countless sparrows chirped under the eaves. In the blue sky, white clouds meet each other on the west side towards the window.

She sat there, resting her head motionlessly on the cushion of the chair, only to unconsciously shake her body a few times as the sensation of sobbing came up her throat, like a sleeping child sobbing in a dream.

She was still young, with a calm and delicate face, but the lines on her face were somewhat oppressive, showing a certain prominence. Her eyes were staring blankly, staring at the blue sky over there. It's not just a glimpse of an object's reflection, but a pause in intelligent thinking.

It was as if something was coming at her, but she waited in fear. What was that? She didn't know, it was too subtle for her to grasp. But she could feel it crawling out of the sky, filling the air through sounds, smells, and colors, and coming at her.

Her chest was heaving violently, she realized that something was closing in on her, and she was trying her best to fight it off with her will. But she felt as powerless as those two white and slender hands. Whenever she wanted to give up her efforts, a whispered word came out from between her half-open and half-closed lips. She said over and over again, "Freedom, freedom, freedom!" and as she said that, her blank gaze and look of fear vanished in an instant, transforming into a kind of inner sharpness and brightness. Her pulse was beating fast, and the blood inside her body began to warm and relax.

She didn't stop to ask if it was a horrible joy that was controlling her. A sense of clarity and elegance led her to abandon this suggestion. She knew that she would cry again when she saw her husband's gentle and kind hands stiffen, and the face, which had never been stingy with affection for her, expressionless and pale as paper. But in this painful moment, she saw a long time that would always belong to her coming towards her, and she wanted to open her arms to welcome it.

In the years to come, she will no longer live for others, but for herself. There will no longer be any will for her to succumb to blind attachment, and men and women always think that they have the right to impose their will on others. Whether in good faith or in bad faith, imposing one's will on others is tantamount to a sinful act. The thought made her pause.

She also loved him sometimes, but often not him. What does it matter? She suddenly realizes that she has a self, and that this self alone is a powerful motive force for survival in the world, and how can love, this unexplainable secret, compare to it!

"Freedom, freedom of body and soul!" she muttered incessantly.

Josephine knelt in front of the closed door, her lips pressed against the keyhole, pleading to get inside, "Louise, open the door! Please, open the door, you'll be sick." What are you doing, Louise, for God's sake, open the door. ”

"Go away. I won't let myself get sick. On the contrary, she was drinking the panacea through the open window!

Her mind began to unfold the illusion of the chaos of those days past. The scenes of spring, the scenes of summer, and the various life scenarios she has experienced. She prayed hurriedly, praying that life would be long. Even yesterday, she thought that life could be very long.

Under her sister's constant pleading, she finally stood up and opened the door to her room. Her eyes were full of the excitement of victory, and she couldn't help but assume the posture of a goddess of victory. She put her arms around her sister's waist and walked down the stairs together. Richards stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them. Someone is using a lock key to open the front door. It was Brantre Malrad who entered, a little tired from the journey, but calmly carrying his large travel bag and umbrella. He was so far away from the scene of the accident that he didn't even know it had happened. He was stunned to hear Josephine scream and see Richard swoop up in front of him and keep him from his wife.

When the doctors arrived, they said she had died of a heart attack due to her joy and sorrow.