One time, after a great quiet, she said:
“Why, since these things are so, do you not live alone?”
Her words were part of the quiet. They did not break it. They were very calm and very quiet indeed. So they entered into David.
He had not answered her. Often he sat so, still, and when he spoke it was upon some other theme. She never spoke these words again....
It was Spring....
David got up very early from his bed, he went into their large room, it slumbered restlessly there, he looked out of the window.
A great mist was before his eyes. A great mist lay in the street. He could not see the street and the opposite houses. It was a great white mist, warm and rolling away: the mist of morning. He looked toward the east. There, dim in the white, were the trees of the little Square. Above them he saw the Sun, a gleam, swathed in the vapors.
He went back to bed and to sleep.
When he awoke, he was rested. He was very warm under his sheet; he had perspired. Under his flesh he was cool and rested as he had not been in a long time.
He returned to the large room and looked once more out of the window.