inner life, I should perhaps write a novel. It is almost history; and, even as I take an interest in the story of our own time, in the anticipation of our future, so history has a great charm for me, even though history depresses humanity and human beings and though our own old folk depress me. Grandmamma's life is almost history: emotions and events of another period. … "
"Lot, I wish you would begin to work seriously."
"I shall start working as soon as we are in Italy. The best thing, Elly, is not to think of setting up house yet. Not with Mamma and also not by ourselves. Let us go on wandering. When we are very old it will be time enough to roost permanently. What draws me to Italy is her tremendous past. I try to reach antiquity through the Renascence, but I have never got so far and in the Forum I still think too much of Raphael and Leonardo."
"So first to Paris … and then Nice … "
"And on to Italy if you like. In Paris we shall look up another aunt."
"Aunt Thérèse?"
"Yes. That's the one who is more Catholic than the Pope. And at Nice Ottilie. … Elly, you know that Ottilie lives with an Italian, she's not married: will you be willing to see her all the same?"
"I should think so," said Elly, with a gentle smile. "I am very anxious to see Ottilie again. … The last time was when I heard her sing at Brussels."
"She has a heavenly voice … "
"And she's a very beautiful woman."
"Yes, she is like Papa, she is tall, she doesn't take after Mamma a bit. … She could never get on with Mamma. And of course she spent more of her time with Papa. … She's no longer young, she's two years older than I. … It's two years since I saw her. … What will she be like? I wonder if she is still with her Italian. … Do you know how she met him? By accident, in the train. They travelled in the same compartment from Florence to Milan. He was an officer. They talked to each other … and they've been together ever since. He resigned his commission, so as to go with her wherever she was singing. … At least, I believe they are still together. … 'Sinful and hysterical,' Aunt Stefanie would say! … Who knows? Perhaps Ottilie met a great happiness … and did not hesitate to seize it. … Ah, most people hesitate … and grope about! … "
"We're different from Ottilie, Lot, and yet we don't grope … or hesitate. … "
"Elly, are you quite sure that you love me?"
She bent over him where he lay, stretched out in the sand, leaning on his two elbows. She felt her love inside her very intensely, as a glowing need to live for him, to eliminate herself entirely for his sake, to stimulate him to work, but to great, very great work. … That was the way in which her love had blossomed up, after her grief. … Under the wide sky, in which the clouds drifted like a great fleet of ships with white, bellying sails, a doubt rose in her mind for perhaps one moment, very vaguely and unconsciously, whether he would need her as she herself intended to give herself. … But this vague, unconscious feeling was dissipated in the breeze that blew over her temples; and her almost motherly love was so intense and glowing that she bent over him and kissed him and said, quite convinced and certain of herself, though not so certain of life and the future:
"Yes, Lot, I am sure of it."
Whatever doubt he may have entertained was scattered in smiles from his soul after this tender and simple affirmation that she loved him, as he felt, for himself alone, in a gentle, wondering bliss that already seemed to see happiness approaching. …
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