And she only spoke of the boy.
Paul felt the sudden change in his wife. It depressed him: had they gone back to where they were before? Did she already feel no interest again in anything but the boy? He no longer felt any inclination to speak of his journey.
The conversation became more and more monosyllabic; he bought a paper at the next station, and she leant back in her corner and tried to sleep. But she did not succeed in doing so, in spite of feeling very tired; her thoughts continued to revolve round the one point: so there was nothing the matter with him. Thank God! How indifferent Paul was, to be sure. Would Wölfchen be very delighted when she came home? The dear boy--the darling boy.
She must have slept a little at last nevertheless, for she suddenly heard her husband's voice, as though far away, saying: "Get ready, darling; Berlin," and she started up.
They were already among the innumerable lines that cross each other there. Then the train rushed into the glass-roofed station.
"So we've got so far." He helped her out, and she began to tremble with impatience. Would this running up and down stairs, this crossing to the other side of the station, and then the waiting and watching for the train to the suburbs never come to an end? Would not Wölfchen be asleep? It would be dark before they got home.
"Is the train soon coming? What time is it? Oh dear, what a long time we have to wait."
"Calm yourself, the boy is waiting for you, never fear. He sits a long time with Cilia every evening; she hasn't much time for him during the day. A nice girl. You've been very fortunate there."
She did not catch what he said, she was thinking the whole time how she would find him. Would he have grown very much? Have changed? Children at his age are said to change constantly--had he grown ugly, or was he still so handsome? But never mind! she used to attach more importance to his outward appearance--as long as he was good, very good, that was all that mattered now. In her thoughts she could already hear his shout of joy, already feel his arms round her neck, his kiss on her mouth.
The wind, which had become pleasant towards evening after a day that had been hot in spite of it already being autumn, fanned her face without being able to cool her cheeks that glowed with emotion. As they stopped in front of the house, which, with its balconies full of bright red geraniums, lay prettily concealed behind the evergreen pines under the starry September sky, her heart beat as though she had run much too far and too quickly. At last! She drew a deep breath--now she was with him again.