"Or ... is it your intention not to give up the good boy--to hang his promise like a halter about his neck?... Are you one of that kind, eh?"
"No. I am not one of that kind."
Her smile reached far beyond him. It flew to greet the beloved who soon, very soon now, would be ascending the stairs; for surely he couldn't have patience to wait there outside in the cab much longer.
"His promise is his own. He's never given it. And if he had wanted to I would never have let him. And even if what you said just now was true, he might go away if he liked, and come back again, and I would not write to him or meet him, or remind him in any way of what he is and always will be to me as long as I live. But I know that it is not true. He loves me, and I love him. And take care, uncle, not to play so low down with his future wife as to offer her blank cheques and such disgraceful proposals. If I were to tell him, you would find yourself all at once a lonely old man whose fortune might go to endow a home for lost dogs."
He was obliged to see at last what a blunder he had committed. He jumped from his seat, evidently annoyed at his mistake, and ejaculated an irritable "Bah!" as he began to pace the room, jingling the charms on his watch-chain. Once or twice he murmured something that sounded like "A hangman's job." But she couldn't have heard right.
At last he seemed to arrive at a decision. He stopped close in front of her, laid his repulsive hands on her shoulders and said, suddenly becoming affectionate and familiar again:
"Listen, sweetheart, girlie, pretty one. Something has to be done. We can't shirk the point. There must be a conclusion. If only I weren't such a damned mangy old hound and hadn't to consider the dear boy's feelings in the matter, things would be simple enough. I should merely say, 'Come along with me to the nearest registry-office. But hurry up; I haven't time to waste!' Don't stare! Yes--me. I'd ask you to marry me. You wouldn't have reason to regret it. But Konrad--you must see yourself it won't do--won't do. It would be a fatal mistake from beginning to end. He is a rising man. He wants to climb to the top; he is still blessed with faith, and you haven't any left. You fell too early into the great sausage-machine which minces us all sooner or later into average meat.... You wouldn't be happy with him long. You couldn't keep up to him. You'd drag on him like a dead weight, and would always be conscious of it. As for last night's revelation, which opened his eyes, I don't lay so much stress on that. It's not a question of what the coastline looks like--sand or palms, it's all the same--but it's the interior that counts. And there I see waste land, burnt-up scorched deserts; no birds flying across it; no ground in which confidence can strike root. Child, creep into any shelter life offers you, cling to those who have brought you to this pass; but let the boy go. He is not made for you. Be honest; haven't you long ago said so yourself?"
Ah, so this was what he meant! It was not a probation, but the end--the end!
She gazed into vacancy. She seemed to hear steps growing fainter; one after the other they slowly died away, like his footsteps when at break of day he had softly stolen downstairs.
But this was final. They had died away for ever.