“That in fact I loved you when we played together and stained our faces with blackberries,” added Leon, stroking the golden head.
“What days those were!” said Pepa, smiling like a soul in bliss, “we could talk for hours of those recollections, taking the words out of each other’s mouth. Ah! our life then was what life ought to be. Really life; not these horribly short moments and sudden changes. If only we might chatter, laugh, remember, talk nonsense and read each other’s thoughts and wishes!”
“If we could...!”
“But we must live apart. We have lived apart all our lives, and yet I feel as if I were saying good-bye for the first time. You go to an inn and I to a palace.”
“Take care of your child for me.”
“Oh! there is one terrible thought: if it is long before you come again she will not know you, she will be afraid of you.”
“She will soon get over that.”
“But are you not coming again to-morrow morning?”
“What for? That we may have another and more cruel parting? If I were to see you again my courage might fail me.”
“I will send Monina to see you.”