What a strange look that meets me out of those eyes.... There's a smile on her lips.... It's almost as if she were talking to me....
JULIAN
What was it your mother told you—that last evening?
FELIX
Not very much. But I feel as if I knew more than she had told me. What a queer thought it is, that as she is now looking at me out of this picture, so she must have been looking at you once. It seems as if there was a certain timidity in that look. Something like fear almost.... In such a way you look at people out of another world, for which you long, and of which you are afraid nevertheless.
JULIAN
At that time your mother had rarely been outside the village.
FELIX
She must have been different from all other women you have met, wasn't she?—Why don't you say anything? I am not one of those men who cannot understand—who won't understand that their mothers and sisters are women after all. I can easily understand that it must have been a dangerous time for her—and for somebody else as well. (Very simply) You must have loved my mother very much?
JULIAN