calm and I wish her every good . . . my son's wife. . . ."
"You must get over that oppression."
"It can't be argued away."
"You must be happy. I have been here for some days now. I see nothing but love all around you."
"From her side?"
"Well, perhaps not from hers."
"She always remains a stranger."
"Then win her to you."
"It's very difficult, when there is no sympathy."
"But, apart from that, there is nothing but love around you. Really, you are wrapped about with silent happiness."
She shook her head:
"They are fond of me . . . but there are things slumbering. . . ."
"There are always slumbering things. Happiness without shadow doesn't exist. And one even doubts whether it ought to."
"No, perhaps not . . . for later, for later. But . . . there are things that slumber, silent, sorrowful things."
"I see you can't overcome it."
"No. I am glad to see you again."
"After so many years. And I too am glad to see that things are going so well with you . . . even though there are sorrowful things that slumber."
"There are many good things."
"There is much love . . . and much living for others."
She laughed softly:
"So simply . . . with no great effort!"
"When we are not great . . . why should we act as though we were? We are small; and we act
