Something was happening but he couldn't tell yet. She was changed. Older or younger, hard to tell. But changed. It was confusing to look at someone and look at a different image of her. The different image was in his mind. When she talked he could tell.
"Did you know that I had gotten a divorce, Erik?"
That was it, then. She wasn't his wife any more. A sort of hocus-pocus ... now you are my wife, now you aren't my wife.
"No, Anna."
"Four months ago."
"I was in Germany...." Mathilde, von Stinnes, es lebe die Welt Revolution, made a circle in his head.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry you didn't find out."
It was impossible. Something impossible was happening. Of course, he had known it would happen. But he had fooled himself. A clever thing to do. He was talking like a little boy reciting a piece from a platform.
"I've come back to you because everything but you has died. I begin with the end of what I have to say. I came back from Europe ... because I wanted you...."
She interrupted. "I wrote you a letter when I found out about her. I sent it to New York."