“Like animals, and like some illustrious philosophers, dear sister,” he replied. “At the turn of a road, among the foliage, we would place a marble statue adorned with flowers. Don’t you agree, doctor?”
“It seems to me a very good idea.”
“Above all, for me the great thing would be to forget death and sorrow a little,” he asserted. “Not so many church-bells should be heard. I believe that we ought even to suppress the maxim about love for one’s neighbour. Make it the duty of the state or the municipality to take care of the sick and the crippled, and leave men the illusion of living healthy in a healthy world.”
“Ah! What very ugly ideas you have!” she exclaimed.
“Yes, that one seems a bit hard to me,” said I.
We were walking down toward the town by a steep and rocky path. It was beginning to grow dusk, the river shone with silvery reflections, and the toads broke the silence of the twilight with the sonorous, flute-like note of their croaking.
On arriving at the highway we said good-bye; they took the stage, which was passing at that moment in the direction of the springs, and I mounted my hack.
IN MY GARDEN
I had learned that the brother and sister were named Cæsar and Laura, that she lived in Italy and was married.
Some days later, toward evening, they knocked at my house door. I let them in, showed them to my garden, and conducted them to a deserted summer-house, a few sticks put together, on the bank of the river.