"Just a little, Mamma. It wasn't very bad...."
And he got better, he made progress. He went out walking, with his wife, with Constance, with Van der Welcke. He went out with his nephew Addie; the outside world no longer made him giddy. On his walks, he recognized brother-officers; one day, he met the hussars:
"Oh, damn it all!" he swore, without knowing why.
It was as though he suddenly saw that he would never again ride, straight-backed, clear-eyed, at the head of his squadron. But it was all rot, seeing that....
Still he was unable to resume his service. He lazed and loafed, as he said. In the evenings, always very early, he sank away into a downy abyss, dropped asleep, heavily....
And he no longer remembered things:
"I say, Constance."
"What is it, Gerrit?"
"When I saw that girl ... in the cemetery ... were you there too and did you call me?..."
"No, Gerrit. You've been dreaming."