“But you were right, you were right. It is so. There is nothing left, at our age; not even our memories....”

“Our memories,” she murmured, very softly.

“The memories of our childhood....”

“Of our childhood,” she repeated.

“Not even that.”

“Not even that,” she repeated, as though hypnotized.

“No, there is nothing left ... for us....”

The door opened suddenly: they started.

“Mamma, are you there?”

It was Addie.