Curiously, considering the fact that she had not seen Gareth for several days, and that an event had occurred since their last meeting which might in some way affect their future relationship, the Countess felt strangely at peace with herself and the world. A sudden calm had descended upon her spirit, a species of content, or some lack of emotion as near content as it was possible for her to experience. She had almost the sense that she had been disembodied, as though she existed completely outside the flesh. But this unnatural mood was shattered as the onyx clock on the mantel struck eleven and Anna ushered the boy into the room, for, at once aware how much he had been suffering, her accustomed perturbation returned in full force.
Poor Gareth, she murmured softly, leading him to the couch and seating herself beside him.
I hope you understand, she went on, why I have not been to see you. I just couldn't go. It seemed so superfluous for me to parade my feelings. All the time, every moment, you were before my eyes, you and your grief. I was suffering with you, Gareth, just as much as, perhaps more than, you. But I knew: that if you wanted to see me you would say so.
I understood, the boy replied. It was fine of you, wonderful. I am not accustomed to anybody showing so much sensibility. If you had come I couldn't have felt the same satisfaction, the satisfaction of knowing that you were my friend, ready, waiting.
