"You don't care for going out 'in all weathers.'"
"I like looking at the weather from here. It's a different sky every day . . ."
Then they talked on all sorts of subjects. He often spoke of Addie, with a sort of enthusiasm which he had conceived for the lad. Her face would glow with pride as she listened. And, almost involuntarily, she told him how the boy had always been a comfort to them, to Van der Welcke as well as to her. And, when she mentioned her husband's name, he often answered, as though with a touch of reproach:
"I'm very fond of Hans. He is a child; and still I'm fond of him . . ."
Then she would feel ashamed, because she had just had a wordy dispute with Van der Welcke—about nothing at all—and she would veer round and say:
"It can't be helped. We can not get on. We endure each other as well as we can. To separate would be too silly . . . and also very sad for Addie. He is fond of both of us."
And their conversation again turned on the boy. Then she had to tell him about Brussels and even about Rome.
"It's strange," he said. "When you were in Brussels . . . I was living at Schaerbeek."
"And we never met."
"No, never. And, when you and Hans went to the Riviera, I was there in the same year."
