“I don’t know, dear. I thought ... I thought that it would be a good thing ... for everybody ... for all of us ... Perhaps I am wrong. I can’t tell.... I am tired, dear. Leave me here by myself. Have your dinner with Papa: I don’t want any dinner, I am tired, I sha’n’t come down.... Hark, there’s Papa coming in. Go and tell him that I am tired. Go now, go at once.... I can’t say: perhaps it is not as I thought, Addie, and perhaps ... perhaps it is all ... too late!”
She saw his eyes grow softer, full of pity; he pressed her to him.
“Addie!” she suddenly implored. “Whatever I may lose, never, never let me lose you! For all the rest is perhaps illusion ... and all too late, too late.... But you ... you are real, you exist!”
She held him, clung to his strong shoulders; and he saw her very pale, anxious-eyed:
“Mamma....”
“No, leave me now, my boy ... leave me alone ... and go to Papa....”
He kissed her once more and went away.
She stayed behind, looked at herself in the glass. She saw herself, after all this emotion, saw her pale face, her grey hair:
“I don’t know,” she murmured. “Oh, to live really, I must not ... I must not think of myself!... For me ... it is all too late! If it has to be so, if we separate, it must be only ... only for him, for Henri ... and for ... and for Marianne!”
She sank into her chair, covered her face, kept her eyes tightly closed; but their blindness no longer saw the rainbow-colours flashing before them....