moodier despite himself, despite all his efforts. She passed through hours of despair; and, if she had not had her children, she would have gone away somewhere, she knew not where.
Her healthy mental balance was disturbed. She now thought that it would be a good thing to tell Addie that she did not wish to stay at the Hague like this, because he was not happy there, that she wanted to go back to Driebergen. And the idea of giving back to him what he was giving her, of sacrificing herself as he was sacrificing himself, gave her an internal glow of exhilaration, as though she had found a solution; a solution in the near future, in a week or two, a month or two. Yes, let her tell him that it would be better, after all, to go back to Driebergen. The rooms there were always ready for them. They would all be glad to see him back again. She would give him back to his family. But she . . .
She pictured herself once more in the repellant life which she had led there. And she would not, she could not suggest it to him. Then days would follow when she avoided him, when she hardly saw him at meals. Sometimes, for a few moments, they would play with the children, for there was something really attractive about the fair-haired little mites, pretty children both, Constant and Jetje, healthy children, such as Addie had wanted. When they were put to bed, she would go out in the evening by herself, to take tea with relations or friends. She did not ask him to go with her: he had his work to do; and she came back in a cab.
There was a void in her life; and she tried to argue sensibly with herself, and to make light of things. Come, there were hundreds of women in her position, not so very happy with their husbands: really, happy marriages were rare; and people still
