"I don't know why, dear.... We live so quietly here, at Driebergen ... and yet ... yet my hands are always full. I do sometimes crave to be quite alone.... But the craving never lasts long ... and it seems impossible.... However, it's all right as it is...."
"What awful weather, Auntie!... I remember how often it used to rain like this when I came to see you in the Kerkhoflaan.... How long ago it is, years and years ago!... Here, among all your old knicknacks it looks to me suddenly and strangely as though everything had remained the same ... and yet changed. Auntie ... Auntie...."
Obeying a sudden impulse, she dropped on her knees beside Constance and seized her hand:
"Do you remember, do you remember?... I used to come and see you in this sort of rain and stay on ... and I could not bear that you should be unhappy with Uncle..... And, you know, I talked about it ... I said tactless things ... I asked you to try and be happy with Uncle ... Do you remember, do you remember?... And now, Auntie, it appears to me as if a great deal has been changed, though much has remained the same, and as if things had become much better ... between you and Uncle ... between you and Uncle Henri...."
"Dear, we have grown older; and everything has become more mellow; and Uncle ... Uncle is very good."
"Yes, he is good."
"He is just simply good."
"You see that now."
"Yes, I see it now, I admit it."
"Oh, I am so glad!... Yes, we have grown old."