"Look how dark it's growing."
"Here comes the rain."
"It's lashing against the windows."
"Strange that, even in this weather, the house and this room don't seem sombre . . . to me."
"There is an air of so much affection in the house. . . . If Addie would only come! If he would only come now! . . . Tell me, Brauws, what is your opinion? What will be the end of it? Will they ever go back to each other?"
"Possibly . . . later. . . ."
"You can't say it positively?"
"Oh, no!"
"Do you think that she cares for Erzeele?"
"It's difficult to say."
"She doesn't know, herself. Only the other day she told me so herself: she herself doesn't know. . . . Will the children prevent her?"
"Who can say?"
"Is it right . . . that Addie should let things decide themselves?"
"Perfectly right."
"Say that . . . say that again. I sometimes doubt. Is it right that Addie should let things decide themselves?"
"Yes, I am firmly persuaded that it is right."
"Is she . . . strong enough?"
"I think so . . . in that way . . . of course she mustn't sit still, with her hands folded. . . . She will have to find herself."
"Oh, if she could only feel in sympathy with all of us! . . . If she ever comes back, I swear that I shall . . ."
"What?"
"Nothing. I was thinking. . . . Then I begin to hope that she and all of us will feel alike. . . . And, strangely enough, I see that in everything. We
