all want it. If she comes back, I am almost sure that we shall all . . . do a great deal . . . to make her ours . . ."
"And to make her happy . . ."
"If she comes back. . . . How delightful it would be, if she came back . . . with the children."
"Delightful?"
"I mean . . . yes, I mean delightful. . . . Lives that have once been interlaced . . ."
"Are bad to pull apart. I agree. . . . And Hans?"
"Oh, even he . . . even he will try!"
"Who knows? Perhaps one day it'll be like that."
"For the present, there's nothing to be said."
"No, nothing."
"It's all still mystery and darkness."
"Listen to the rain."
"The sky is black."
"What's the time?"
"Almost dinner-time."
"There goes the bell."
"Shall we go downstairs?"
They went down the dark staircase. The wind howled round the house. The old lady was sitting at the window of the conservatory at the back when Constance and Brauws entered.
"It's blowing hard," she said. "There are great branches falling from the trees in the garden."
"Aren't you too cold in here, Mamma?"
The old woman did not understand; and Constance put a shawl over her shoulders:
"Will you come in, Mamma, when you feel too cold?"
The old woman nodded, without understanding. She remained sitting where she was. She had al-
