And now, sitting silent at table, feeling all sorts of reproaches around her, she asked herself, was it not his fault, was it not his fault? What she really imagined to be his fault she did not clearly see, for it was all whirling through her mind; she kept on thinking of Johan Erzeele, kept on feeling her self-reproach; and the grievances surged up, like lances, more numerous than before, to defend her against that self-reproach.
Gerdy had not come down to lunch: she was tired, Adeline said. The tone of the conversation was forced; and Mathilde reflected that it was always so when she was there, when they would look at one another askance, in a silent understanding against her, against her....
Lunch finished, the children, Jetje and Constant, went out, after Addie had first played with them. Yes, he was fond of the children, but was he fond of her, of his wife?...
"Addie, Addie, you do love me, don't you?"
She had found another opportunity of asking him; and he answered:
"Why, of course, dear."
"Stay with me to-day."
"Very well. What would you like to do? Shall we go for a walk? It's fine."
"Yes, Addie, I'd like to."
And they went out together and roamed along deserted paths; she took his arm: