"Better, she says, and brighter—Oh, so much brighter! What do we not owe you?"
"I beg you never to say that again. You owe me nothing. One day I may perhaps tell you what I owe you. Your mother is better. That is good news. And you—but I need scarcely ask."
"I have never been so well."
"More good news. The day is propitious. You saw me coming?"
"Mother and I were sitting by the open window. We are not overrun by company; that makes it all the more delightful."
"You are fond of the country?"
"I love it. We are closer to what is best in the world. There is my mother at the window. She thinks it so strange that she has never seen you."
"Well, she will see me now—and will be disappointed."
"No, no. That is not possible. You are her hero."
"Ah, that makes it all the more certain. We raise an ideal; best never to see it in flesh and blood. Reality is a disenchanter. Far better to continue to dream."