“Then come along, we’ll go home. It’s no longer summer, autumn is here.”
They returned to the hotel, much relieved.
He was a little embarrassed on account of the prosaic ending of the adventure, and felt an irresistible longing to justify it from a philosophical standpoint.
“You see, mother,” he said, “my lo—h’m” (the word was too strong) “my affection for you has undergone a change in the course of time. It has developed, broadened; at first it was centred on the individual, but later on, on the family as a whole. It is not now you, personally, that I love, nor is it the children, but it is the whole....
“Yes, as my uncle used to say, children are lightning conductors!”
After his philosophical explanation he became his old self again. It was pleasant to take off his frock coat; he felt, as if he were getting into his dressing-gown.
When they entered the hotel, she began at once to pack, and there she was in her element.
They went downstairs into the saloon as soon as they got on board. For appearance sake, however, he asked her whether she would like to watch the sunset; but she declined.
At supper he helped himself first, and she asked the waitress the price of black bread.
When he had finished his supper, he remained sitting at the table, lingering over a glass of porter. A thought which had amused him for some time, would no longer be suppressed.