. . . and yet . . . yet we change. It is like a game of riddles. I . . . I am the same . . . and I am changed."
"I too. My soul still recognizes in itself my former child's soul . . . and yet . . . yet I am changed. . . . Tell me: I believe things are running smbothly with you. . . ."
"Sometimes."
"Not always?"
"No."
"I am so glad to see . . . that things are going well as between you and Henri."
"We are growing so old. . . Everything gets blunted."
"No, it's not only that."
"No, not only."
"You have grown used to each other . . ."
"Without talking about it."
"You set store by each other by now. . . ."
"Perhaps. . . . Gradually. . . ."
"Hans is a good sort."
"Yes, he's just simply that."
"And you appreciate this now."
"I think I do."
"You both have full lives."
"Yes. Who would ever have thought it?"
"You have so much to make you happy: Addie always with you . . ."
"My poor boy!"
"Why do you say that?"
"I am frightened . . ."
"What of?"
"I don't know. On days like the last few days, I am sensitive to every sort of fear, I always have been."
"Have the fears been justified?"
"Sometimes."
