And he saw Cilia--as fresh, as beautiful as life itself. Oh, how very beautiful. Surely she had not looked like that before? He knew that he was dreaming, but he was not able to shake off the dream. And she came quite close to him--oh, so close. And she made the sign of the cross--over him the organ played softly--hark, what was she saying, what was she whispering above him? He wanted to seize hold of her hand, question her, then he heard another voice:
"Wolfgang, are you asleep?"
Käte had laid her hand lightly on his hands, which were folded on his knees. "I suppose I was a long time up there? You have felt bored?"
"Oh no, no." He said it enthusiastically.
They went out of the cathedral together, whilst the organ sounded behind them until they reached the market-place. Käte was in ecstasies about the view she had had, so did not notice the mysterious radiance in Wolfgang's eyes. He was quiet, and seemed to agree to everything.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
His manner began to cause his mother some uneasiness. What would have made her happy before--oh, how she had longed for a more docile child in bygone days!--saddened her now. Was he, after all, worse than they had any idea of?
They had now reached the coast, had got to Sestri. Those were the same stone pines under which she had sat and painted as a younger woman eighteen years ago. But another hotel had come into existence since then, quite a German hotel, German landlord, German waiters, German food, German society, all the comfort the Germans like. Käte had wanted to live a retired life, to devote herself to Wolfgang; but now she felt she needed a chat with this one or that one at times, for even if she and Wolfgang were together, she felt alone all the same. What was he thinking of? His brow and his eyes showed that he was thinking of something, but he did not express his thoughts. Was he low-spirited--bright? Happy--sad? Were there many things he repented of and did he ponder over them, or did he feel bored here? She did not know.
He kept away from everybody else with a certain obstinacy. It was in vain that Käte encouraged him to play tennis with young girls who were on the look-out for a partner; if he did not overdo it he might certainly try to play. He was also invited to go out sailing, but he did not seem to care for that sport any longer.
Wolfgang lay right out on the mole for the most part, against the rocky point of which the blue sea flings itself restlessly until it is a mass of white foam, and looked across at the coast near San Remo swimming in a ruddy violet vapour or back at the naked heights of the Apennines, in whose semi-circle the white and red houses of Sestri nestle.