The Twilight of the Souls Part 35

"What do you hear?"

"Life: the whole of life itself.... Things of the past; things of the future; and all big and tremendous.... When I listen to the wind, the past becomes immense and the future tremendous ... and I remain so small, so small...."

"What you remain, child, is a dreamer...."

"No, I haven't remained so.... I may have become one again...."

"Yes, you have become one again.... I recognize you like this absolutely, just as you were as a slim, fair-haired little girl, the same little fairy-like vision.... How long ago it all is, Connie!... How everything melts away in our lives!... How old we grow!..."

"But all your children: they keep you young. They all ... they all belong to the future...."

"Yes, if only I myself...."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What were you going to say?"

"I was going to own up to something. I was going to confess to you. But why should I? It's better not. It would be very weak of me. It's better not. It's better that I shouldn't speak."

"Gerrit ... Gerrit, dear ... tell me ... is there ... is there...?"

"What?..."

"Is there anything?..."

"No."

"Is there anything threatening you?"

"Why, no, child!"

"Aren't you well?... Do you feel ... unhappy?... Have you some big trouble?... Tell me, Gerrit, tell me!... I'm your sister after all!"

"Yes, you're my sister, the same flesh and blood, soul of my soul....

No, there's nothing, Constance, there's nothing threatening."

"And there's no secret trouble?"

"No, no secret trouble."

"Yes, I'm sure there is."

"No, old girl. It's only that I've slept badly the last night or two.

And I feel rotten. That's all."

"But your health is good, isn't it?"

"Oh dear, yes!"

"There's nothing serious the matter? You're not seriously ill?"

"No, no, certainly not."

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing."

"No, no, I feel that you have a trouble of some kind. Gerrit, aren't you happy? Is there some private worry? Aren't you happy with Adeline?"

"Why, of course I am, Connie! She's awfully sweet. I'm very happy with her."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Yes, Gerrit, there's something wrong. Oh, do tell me about it! Don't keep it to yourself. Sorrow ... chokes us ... when we keep it in."

"No, it's not sorrow.... It's ... I don't know what it is...."

"You don't know?"

"No."

"But there's something, you see. What is it?"

"Constance, it's ... it's...."

"What?"

"Constance, it's ... an overpowering _melancholy_."

"An overpowering melancholy?"

"Yes."

"What about?"

"About ... myself."

"Yourself?"

"Yes.... Because I'm rotten."

"Because you haven't felt well the last few days?"

"Because I'm never well."