"Belief in God warrants us in this hope for the future. God cannot be unjust. He could not have implanted in us such strong and persistent hopes to make a cruel mockery of us. It is inadmissible if one believe in him. Have confidence in God and keep his commandments."
"But where is this law of God? In the books called holy? They differ; some of them are supposed to be revelation, others simple popular legends. How uncertain everything is, cold, empty, frightful!"
With these words she trembled, as if the spectre of death had appeared before her. Then she went to the piano, and played one of Chopin's touching fantasies, while Jacob listened. Some one put a hand on her shoulder, and Mathilde gave a little cry of fright. The dream was over. This was reality. Henri, with a cigar in his mouth, appeared before her.
"You have at last deigned to remember us," said he jokingly to Jacob. "You haven't been here for a long while. Mathilde, will you order the tea? What time is it? Nine o'clock. At ten I must be at the chateau. I have scarcely time to dress and to take tea, which is much better than I get there, in spite of their golden cups; but how can you stay in this room, it is freezing."
"I have not felt cold," said Jacob.
"The music has warmed you, then. Have you heard Muse play Liszt's last fantasie? It is stupefying."
"Muse's execution is marvellous, but she plays without expression."
"Profane blasphemer!"
Jacob said no more, and Henri looked at his watch.
"That which exasperates me is the white cravat; but one meets the best society at the chateau. The Namiestnik is one of the most courteous men in the world."