On the whole, she would not be sorry when he was gone.
They had dinner, and sat eating nuts and drinking by the fire. Not
a serious word had been spoken. Yet Clara realised that Morel was
withdrawing from the circle, leaving her the option to stay with her
husband. It angered her. He was a mean fellow, after all, to take what
he wanted and then give her back. She did not remember that she herself
had had what she wanted, and really, at the bottom of her heart, wished
to be given back.
Paul felt crumpled up and lonely. His mother had really supported his
life. He had loved her; they two had, in fact, faced the world together.
Now she was gone, and for ever behind him was the gap in life, the tear
in the veil, through which his life seemed to drift slowly, as if he
were drawn towards death. He wanted someone of their own free initiative
to help him. The lesser things he began to let go from him, for fear of
this big thing, the lapse towards death, following in the wake of his
beloved. Clara could not stand for him to hold on to.
Pages:
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833