Vincent nodded his head and closed the door, whilst Paul, who sat by the window, opened it. A rush of cool air quickly entered. Outside it was very quiet; now and again voices might be heard to the accompaniment of measured footsteps, or a shrill street tune re-echoed through the stillness.
The chill air brought Vincent quite to himself again, and his strange desires vanished, now that his nerves grew calmer. Now, on the contrary, he envied the three that same physical and moral Nirvana which he had looked upon with such contempt a short while since; Paul he envied his vigorous health, just a trifle enervated by a somewhat languid æstheticism; Georges his calm equanimity and contented mind; Etienne his joyous youthfulness. Why indeed was he not like them, healthy, contented, and youthful? [[95]]why did he not enjoy life as it was? why was he continually seeking after a something which he could not even define himself?
It was close upon one when the three young men rose, and Paul declared that they would have to take Etienne home, as his early excitement had given way to a mood of melancholy, and he was continually talking about suicide.
“I say, Eetje, have you got your key?” he asked.
“Key?” asked Etienne with dull staring eyes, and husky voice. “Key?” he repeated, reflecting. “Yes, in my pocket, yes—a key—in my pocket—here——”
“Come, let us go then,” said Georges.
Etienne approached Vincent and took him by the shoulders, while the others listened in amusement.
“Good-bye, Vere, thanks for your hospi—hospitality. I always had a liking for you, Vere; you’re a trump of a fellow, do you hear, Vere? I feel much, very much sympathy for you, do you hear? Only this afternoon at the Witte I was saying—Paul was there—and heard me—I said, Vere, that your heart was in the right place. They misjudge you, Vere, but——”
“Come, allons!” cried Paul and Georges, with impatience, taking hold of his arm; “cut it short.”
“No, no; let me have my say—they misjudge you, Vere; but don’t you take any notice of it, old boy; ’tis just the same with me, they misjudge me too. ’Tis sad, very sad, but so it is; good-bye, Vere; good-night, Vere; sleep well.”