In Anne’s pale, transparent face the corners of her eyes and lips rose in silent pain. It was as though she gazed into a mysterious abyss of which she had known nothing till this day. Now she saw Thomas’s soul, now that he had given her every flower that had not grown on someone else’s land. He was dead when he gave, but he gave....
If only one could answer those who are gone; if only one could speak when speech is no more possible....
Anne remained alone in a small vaulted room. Above the couch of many flowers hung the portrait of Mrs. Christina. The piano, the small work-table were there too, and everything was in the same position as it had been in the sunshine room.
She leaned her brow against the window railing and from among her old household gods looked out into the new world. A verdant breath of the large garden fanned her face. The trees whispered strange things to each other.
Anne thought of the swing-tree and her gaze wandered over the garden as if in search of it. Then she heard something call to her. It became clearer and clearer. Beyond the trees, there spoke with quiet distant murmur, a faithful old voice: the Danube ... the fate of the Ulwings. The past spoke. This was all that was left to her; nothing more....
In that instant the tramp of strong young steps recalled her from the past. Through the glaring summer sunlight her two sons came down the gravelled path.
She looked at them and her head rose.
THE END
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Canzelei = office (German).