“I am thinking how very small we look in these big chairs,” he said, at last.
His voice was calm and she grew quite calm at once. It was all over; there was peace in their souls. It was not a reconciliation, for they remembered no quarrel. Their glances rested confidently upon each other.
There was nothing between them and they were friends.
“I wonder if we are inferior to those who sat here before us,” she said. “Different, yes; but inferior?”
They both rose.
“Much inferior,” said Cordt, “and much less happy.”
They crossed the room and went out on the balcony, as was their custom before they went to bed.
The stars of the September night rode in a high sky. Most of the lamps were extinguished and there were but few people in the square. A drunken man was singing far away. The sound of the water falling in the fountain swelled up in the silence.
“How beautiful it is here!” he said.
“Yes.”