Anne looked at him frightened. “Has anything happened to you?”
“No, nothing. Listen.... Ille is for sale.”
Thomas sat down on the window sill as if he were tired. He related how he was shooting over the swampy wood. One of the beaters told him that the property of Ille was again up for auction. Those to whom it belonged were ruined and had left the place. He could not resist and he walked all over the property, a thing he had never done before. An old farm hand recognized him. He called him young master as in old times, though his hair was turning grey. The bailiff recognized him too. And he saw the big garden, the roof of the house, the free Danube, the barn, the tree with the swing, whose bark still showed the marks of the ropes.
“You understand, Anne, all this is for sale, cheap, it could be ours. And there my life would have a purpose. You know, for the sake of the boys.... A family survives only if it is rooted in the soil. It is hopeless for a tree to cast its seeds on the pavements of cities; lasting life is impossible there. The families of city folk are like their houses and last but three generations. Country people are like the earth. The earth outlives a house.... If only I could go home, everything would be different.”
Astonishment disappeared from Anne’s face and an indescribable terror appeared in its stead.
“And the house! We shall have to leave here!”
“Don’t be frightened,” said Thomas icily. “I do not want you to leave the house for my sake. I never asked you for a sacrifice. Nor will I now. But I can’t stand this any longer.”
Every word wounded Anne.
“Why do you hurt me like this?”
“So you would come with me?” He looked at her incredulously, inquiringly. “Is it possible? You would come with me, to me, now when I have grown old and your love for me has passed away?”