His eye became even darker and harsher: “You know, God who makes the lilies grow in the fields ... I can’t quote that old proverb exactly, my familiarity with the Bible is nothing to boast of.”
That was all they said. The window was open; there was a mysterious pulsing in the earth; the warm air had a disagreeable taste, somewhat like that of sweet oil.
When the clock in the tower struck ten, Eleanore got up and said good-night.
“Good-night!” replied Daniel, with bowed head.
V
That is the way it was now every evening between the two; for during the day they scarcely saw each other.
Daniel would sit perfectly still for hours at a time and brood.
He could not forget. He could not forget the burning, smoking border of the dress; nor the shoes that had some street mud on them; nor the face with the pinched upper lip, the dishevelled hair, the nervously knitted brow.
Under the linen in the clothes press he had found the silver buckle he had given her. “Why did she hide it there?” he asked himself. The condition of her soul when she opened the press and put the buckle in it became vivid, real; it became blended with his own soul, a part of his own being.