Edward did not seem to understand, and presently Janet felt impelled to break the silence.
“She didn't come home last night, father.”
“Didn't come home? Mebbe she spent the night with a friend,” he said.
It seemed incredible, at such a moment, that he could still be hopeful.
“No, she's gone, I tell you, she's lost, we'll never lay eyes on her again. My God, I never thought she'd come to this, but I might have guessed it. Lise! Lise! To think it's my Lise!”
Hannah's voice echoed pitifully through the silence of the flat. So appealing, so heartbroken was the cry one might have thought that Lise, wherever she was, would have heard it. Edward was dazed by the shock, his lower lip quivered and fell. He walked over to Hannah's chair and put his hand on her shoulder.
“There, there, mother,” he pleaded. “If she's gone, we'll find her, we'll bring her back to you.”
Hannah shook her head. She pushed back her chair abruptly and going over to the stove took the fork from Janet's hand and put the steak on the dish.
“Go in there and set down, Edward,” she said. “I guess we've got to have breakfast just the same, whether she's gone or not.”
It was terrible to see Hannah, with that look on her face, going about her tasks automatically. And Edward, too, seemed suddenly to have become aged and broken; his trust in the world, so amazingly preserved through many vicissitudes, shattered at last. He spilled his coffee when he tried to drink, and presently he got up and wandered about the room, searching for his overcoat. It was Janet who found it and helped him on with it. He tried to say something, but failing, departed heavily for the mill. Janet began to remove the dishes from the table.