And Nancy said: "Thank you."
"Now you are quite clear," he said after a pause; "and you must never regret it. If you want your child to be an eagle, you must pull out your own wings for her."
"Every feather of them!" said Nancy.
"And when you have done so, then she will spread them and fly away from you."
"I know it," said Nancy.
"And you will be alone."
"Yes," said Nancy.
And she closed her eyes to look into the coming years.
XIX
The Ogre remained in Prague a week, and took Anne-Marie on the Moldau and to the White Mountain, to the Stromovka and the Petrin Hill. Bemolle was frantic. For six days Anne-Marie had not touched the violin. He had looked forward to long hours of music with Anne-Marie, and had prepared her entire repertoire carefully in contrasting programmes for the English visitor's pleasure. But the English visitor would have none of it, or very little, and that little not of the best. Not much Beethoven, scarcely any Bach, no Brahms! Only Schubert and Grieg. Short pieces! Then the large man would get up and shake hands, first with Anne-Marie, then with Bemolle, and say "Thank you, thank you," and the music was over.