When this happened Anne began to hear the ticking of the clock. If only once she could be alone with Thomas, she would go to the clock, push its hand back and that would tell him all she dared not express in words. But they were never alone. She could only speak to him when she was singing.
Did he understand it? Did he like to hear it? She did not know. Illey was different from everyone she had known hitherto. When their eyes met in silence she felt herself quite near to him. When they spoke to each other it seemed to her that they were far, far apart and that their voices had to travel a great distance, the words being dulled on the way.
Anne began to grow fond of silence which she could fill with the warmth of her heart.
Summer passed away.
Thomas Illey came more and more frequently and stayed longer and longer. John Hubert surrendered his evening stroll to remain in his company. Tini produced the best china cups from the glass cupboard when he was expected. Florian ran to open the door.
The days became shorter. Now and then Netti lit a fire in the stove.
One evening Illey was even more taciturn than usual.
Tini dropped her ball of wool. While she bent down for it Thomas turned suddenly to Anne and said in a very low whisper:
“I shall soon leave Pest. Give me a word that I can carry with me.”
Mamsell was now sitting up again, stiff and straight, on her chair and her knitting needles knocked each other diligently.