st. In the undergrowth on the dark emerald carpet,
circles of sunlight. Below, a hill rising from the plain, and above
the thick yellow and dark-green foliage, a bit of wall and a turret as
in a tapestry. A page advanced dressed like a bird. A buzzing. It
was the sound of the royal chase in the distance. Unusually pleasant
things were going to happen.

. . . . .

The next afternoon was also hot and sunny. I remembered similar
afternoons, years before and the present seemed to be that past, as if
the glowing heat had effaced time and had stifled all other days
beneath its brooding wings.

The room next to mine was almost dark. They had closed the shutters.
Through the double curtains made out of some thin material I saw the
window streaked with shining bars, like the grating in front of a fire.

In the torrid silence of the house, in the large slumber it enclosed,
bursts of laughter mounted and broke, voices died away, as they had the
day before and as they always would.

From out of these remoter sounds emerged the distinct sound of
footsteps, coming nearer and nearer. I propped myself up against the
wall and looked. The door of the Room opened, as if pushed in by the
flood of light that streamed through it, and two tiny shadows appeared,
engulfed in the brightness.

They acted as though they were being pursued. They hesitated on the
threshold, the doorway making a frame around those little creatures.
And then they entered.

The door closed. The Room was now alive. I scrutinised the newcomers.
I saw them indistinctly through the dark red and green spots dancing in
front of my eyes, which had been dazzled by the flood of light. A
little boy and a little girl, twelve or thirteen years old.

They sat down on the sofa, and looked at each other in silence. Their
faces were almost alike.

. . . . .

The boy murmured:

"You see, Helene, there is no one here."

And a hand pointed to the uncovered bed, and to the empty table and
empty clothes-racks--the careful denudation of unoccupied rooms.

Then the same hand began to tremble like a leaf. I heard the beating
of my heart. The voices whispered:

"We are alone. They did not see us."

"This is about the first time we've ever been alone together."

"Yet we have always known each other."

A little laugh.

They seemed to need solitude, the first step to a mystery toward which
they were travelling together. They had fled from the others. Th