round; it was Chisdai, who, without awaiting a response, went on shaking his head.
"Did that man hear what I said?" asked Spinoza.
"I think not," answered Olympia; "but it is horrible that such Medusa faces can speak familiarly to you. That decides it; a higher duty has its claims. I will not desert you. I hate renunciation; it is nothing but hypocritical cowardice; it would be unworthy of yourself and of me."
They had arrived at the Van den Ende's house. Spinoza would have taken his leave.
"You must come in with us," said Olympia.
"You can hardly imagine how dreary it seems to me when I have gone through great agitation of mind out of doors to go in alone where the familiar walls seem altered and strange. Everything is a burden to me. I think I shall die of restlessness and inexpressible longing. Generally I then play the organ until I find rest in perfect stupefaction. Come in with me, I entreat you."
