ike a smooth, silky mantle. She shook them and drew a deep
breath. How heavy, oppressive, and disquieting the room felt.

[Pg 211]

She went to the window, opened it with an impatient movement, and leant
out as far as she could. It was like spring outside. The night was dark
and mild, there was a smell of the earth in the air and the stars were
twinkling. Just over the farm there was such a golden light, that she
could see a couple walking up and down near the pond with their arms
thrown round each other.

It was Marianna. But with whom? The man was tall, taller than Mikolai.
A deadly fear overpowered her; she would not stand that, she had better
run downstairs. But it was not Becker, he had not that clumsy, rolling
gait, he was much more erect. But even if it were not he, how she
envied the girl down there.

She pressed both hands to her face; she would not look at them, she
would not listen to their whispers. But a shiver ran through her
similar to what she had only felt once before in her life, and of which
she now no longer knew if it had been sweet or terrible. She felt as
she had done that time in the quiet room in early, long-gone-by days,
when she had lain on her knees before her best friend and had implored,
demanded his help. In those days that shiver full of presage and bliss
had almost bereft her of her senses; she could have shouted with joy
and still have died of weeping. Now, so long afterwards, she once more
felt the same kind of shiver.

She turned away. She staggered from the window to the glass as though
she were about to faint, and stared into it with half-closed, swimming
eyes. The balmy air blew in through the open window and fanned her bare
shoulders, neck, and arms. It felt like a soft hand, and she held her
breath as it caressed her. She kept her eyes fixed on the glass; was
she [Pg 212] not too old, was she really young enough? Oh, yes. She had
to laugh. A voice within her seemed to say, "You still look like a girl
and you are still like a girl." And when she came to think of it, was
she Mr. Tiralla's wife in the eyes of God? No. He had forced her, but
she was not his wife in spite of that. God alone makes husband and
wife.

If only he would come now, if only he were here. "Holy Mary, all ye
angels and archangels, ye fourteen helpers in need, lend me your aid."

The woman stretched out her arms as though she were intoxicated.
Suddenly she thought she heard somebody coming cautiously ups