"Nothing serious, I hope—he is better—he wishes to be alone."
"And you?" questioned the mother, taking her son's hand, and leading him towards the room he used. "And you?"
"How? I?"
When he had shut the door behind her, she placed herself before him, and her face quite white in the light of the window, her eyes fixed on the eyes of her child:
"You quite understood—did you not—what grandfather wished to say?"
"Yes."
She tried to smile, and it was heart-breaking to see this effort of a tortured soul.
"Yes. He cried: 'Go away!' It is a word he often used to say to strangers. He was addressing M. von Kassewitz. You do not think so?"
Jean shook his head.
"But, my darling, he could not 'address others so!'"