"All well . . . all well. I'm glad, dear . . . especially as to-night . . ."
"What, Mamma?"
"Is the last time. The last Sunday. I am too tired, dear . . . and they . . . they are all too far. . . . And, if there's nothing wrong with any of them . . . if they're all well . . ."
"Then . . . ?"
"Then . . . then no more . . . Sundays. . . . And this house . . . is too big . . . and the house is so cold, so cold. The house is so cold and so big. . . . And the cold house is so dark. . . . And Mamma wants . . ."
"What do you want, Mamma?"
"To come to you, dear . . . now that you are back . . . from Brussels. . . . To you, dear . . . Mamma . . . Mamma wants to come . . . to you. . . ."
"Do you want to come to us, Mamma?"
"Yes, to you . . . dear. . . . To you, dear. . . . So Gerrit . . . is well?"
"Oh yes, Mamma . . . he's well. . . ."
"Then . . . then all is well. . . ."
Suddenly the candle flared up and went out.
Then they lit the gas and took the old woman up to bed. She submitted like a child. For around her, after her last glimmer of light, the twilight had deepened into black night.
THE END
