4
The night rises, things fade away. The sky is a deep blue in the frame of the open window. Rose brings the lamp:
"It was the first companion of my solitude," she says, reminiscently; then, laughing, "the companion of my boredom, the companion of those long, long evenings...."
"But now, dearest?..."
"Ah, now, the days are too short: I have a thousand duties to perform, my dear little old woman to look after, my customers, my flowers, my animals; then, in the evening, we often have a caller: the priest, the notary, the neighbours...."
Then, suddenly fearing that she has hurt me, she adds, in a caressing tone:
"When I am with them, I am always talking about you, so as to comfort myself for the loss of you; for that is my only sorrow."