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THE LIBRARY

OF

THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA

LOS ANGELES



The Intruder

THE BLIND

THE SEVEN PRINCESSES
THE DEATH OF TINTAGILES

BY

MAURICE MAETERLINCK

Translated by
RICHARD HOVEY



NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY

1914



COPYRIGHT, 1894, 1896, BY
STONE AND KIMBALL



Collegt
Library

PR



Contents

PAGE

THE INTRUDER 9

THE BLIND 57

THE SEVEN PRINCESSES 117

THE DEATH OF TINTAGILES 167



1318526



Persons.

THE GRANDFATHER. (Ht is blind.)

THE FATHER.

THE UNCLE.

THE THREE DAUGHTERS.

THE SISTER OF CHARITY.

THE MAID-SERVANT.

Th* scene in modern times.



The Intruder

To Edmond Picard



The Intruder.



[A gloomy room in an old chateau. A door
on the right, a door on the left, and a small
secret door in one corner. At the back,
stained-glass windows, in which green is the
dominant color, and a glass door opening
upon a terrace. A big Dutch clock in a
corner. A lighted lamp.]

THE THREE DAUGHTERS.

Come here, grandfather. Sit under the
lamp.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me it is not very light here.

THE FATHER.

Shall we go out on the terrace, or shall we
stay in the room ?

THE UNCLE.

Would n't it be better to stay here ? It has
rained all the week, and the nights are damp
and cold.

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

The stars are out, though.



io The Intruder.

THE UNCLE.

Oh, the stars that makes no difference.

THE GRANDFATHER.

We had better stay here. You don't know
what may happen.

THE FATHER.

We need have no more anxiety. She is out
of danger. . . .

THE GRANDFATHER.

I believe she is not doing well.

THE FATHER.

Why do you say that?

THE GRANDFATHER.

I have heard her voice.

THE FATHER.

But since the doctors assure us that we may
be easy. . . .

THE UNCLE.

You know quite well your father-in-law likes
to alarm us needlessly.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I do not see things as you do.



The Intruder. n

THE UNCLE.

Then you should trust to us, who do see.
She was looking very well this afternoon. She
is sleeping quietly now ; and we are not going
needlessly to poison the first pleasant evening
fortune gives us. ... It seems to me we have
a right to rest, and even to laugh a little, with-
out being afraid, this evening.

THE FATHER.

That is true ; this is the first time I have felt
at home, as if I were in my own household,
since this terrible child-birth.

THE UNCLE.

Once sickness enters a house, it is as if there
were a stranger in the family.

THE FATHER.

And then, you see, too, outside the family,
you can count on no one.

THE UNCLE.

You are quite right.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Why couldn't I see my poor daughter
to-day ?

THE UNCLE.

You know very well that the doctor forbade it



12 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I do not know what to think.

THE UNCLE.

It is useless to alarm yourself.

THE GRANDFATHER.

[Pointing to the door on the left.~] She can-
not hear us?

THE FATHER.

We will not speak loudly enough ; besides,
the door is very thick, and then the Sister of
Charity is with her, and will warn us if we are
making too much noise.

THE GRANDFATHER.

[Pointing to the door on the right. ~] He can-
not hear us ?

THE FATHER.

No, no.

THE GRANDFATHER.

He sleeps?

THE FATHER.

I suppose so.

THE GRANDFATHER.

We ought to go and see.



The Intruder. 13

THE UNCLE.

He would give me more anxiety than your
wife, this little fellow. It is several weeks since
he was bora, and he has hardly moved ; he has
not uttered a single cry yet ; you would say he
was a wax baby.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I believe he will be deaf, and perhaps
dumb. . . . That is what comes of marrying
cousins. . . . \Reproachfulsilence,

THE FATHER.

I am almost angry with him for the suffering
he has caused his mother.

THE UNCLE.

You must be reasonable ; it is not the poor
little fellow's fault. He is all alone in that
room?

THE FATHER.

Yes ; the doctor no longer allows him to
remain in his mother's room.

THE UNCLE.

But the nurse is with him ?

THE FATHER.

No ; she has gone to rest a moment ; she
has well earned it these last few days. Ursula,
just run and see if he is asleep.



J 4 The Intruder.

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

Yes, father.

[The three sisters get up, and go into the
room on the right, hand in hand.]

THE FATHER.

At what time is our sister coming?

THE UNCLE.

About nine o'clock, I believe.

THE FATHER.

It is after nine. I would have liked her to
come this evening ; my wife was quite bent on
seeing her.

THE UNCLE.

She is sure to come. Is it the first time she
has ever come here ?

THE FATHER.

She has never entered the house.

THE UNCLE.

It is very difficult for her to leave her
convent.

THE FATHER.

She will be alone?

THE UNCLE.

I think one of the nuns will accompany her.
They cannot go out alone.



The Intruder. 15

THE FATHER.

She is the Superior, though.

THE UNCLE.

The rule is the same for all.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are no longer anxious?

THE UNCLE.

Why should we be anxious? There is no
need to keep returning to that? There is
nothing more to fear.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Your sister is older than you?

THE UNCLE.

She is the eldest of us all.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I do not know what ails me ; I feel uneasy.
I wish your sister were here.

THE UNCLE.

She will come ; she promised to.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I wish this evening were over !

[The Three Daughters come in again.]



1 6 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

He sleeps?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

Yes, father ; very soundly.

THE UNCLE.

What shall we do while we are waiting?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Waiting for what ?

THE UNCLE.

Waiting for our sister.

THE FATHER.

You see nothing coming, Ursula?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

\At the window."] No, father.

THE FATHER.

And in the avenue ? You see the avenue ?

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes, father; it is moonlight, and I see the
avenue as far as the cypress wood.

THE GRANDFATHER.

And you see no one, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

No one, grandfather.



The Intruder. 17



THE UNCLE.

How is the weather?

THE DAUGHTER.

Very fine. Do you hear the nightingales ?

THE UNCLE.

Yes, yes !

THE DAUGHTER.

A little wind is rising in the avenue.

THE GRANDFATHER.

A little wind in the avenue, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes ; the trees are stirring a little.

THE UNCLE.

It is surprising that my sister should not be
here yet.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I do not hear the nightingales any longer,
Ursula.

THE DAUGHTER.

I believe some one has come into the garden,
grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER,

Who is it?



1 8 The Intruder.

THE DAUGHTER.

I do not know ; I see no one.

THE UNCLE.

Because there is no one there.

THE DAUGHTER.

There must be some one in the garden ; the
nightingales are silent all at once.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear no footsteps, though.

THE DAUGHTER.

It musf be that some one is passing near the
pond, for the swans are frightened.

ANOTHER DAUGHTER.

All the fish of the pond are rising suddenly.

THE FATHER.

You see no one?

THE DAUGHTER.

No one, father.

THE FATHER.

But yet the pond is in the moonlight. . . .

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes ; I can see that the swans are frightened.



The Intruder. 19



THE UNCLE.



f am sure it is my sister that frightens them.
She must have come in by the little gate.



THE FATHER.



I cannot understand why the dogs do not
bark.



THE DAUGHTER.



I see the watch dog in the back of his
kennel. The swans are crossing to the other
bank! . . .

THE UNCLE.

They are afraid of my sister. I will go and
see. \_He calls.'] Sister ! sister ! Is it you ?
There is no one there.

THE DAUGHTER.

I am sure that some one has come into the
garden. You will see.

THE UNCLE.

But she would answer me.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Are not the nightingales beginning to sing
again, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

I no longer hear a single one in all the fields.



20 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

And yet there is no noise.

THE FATHER.

There is a stillness of death.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It must be some stranger that frightens them,
for if it were one of the household, they would
not be silent.

THE DAUGHTER.

There is one on the big weeping willow. It
has flown away ! . . .

THE UNCLE.

Are you going to talk about nightingales all
night ?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Are all the windows open, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

The glass door is open, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me that the cold comes into the
room.

THE DAUGHTER.

There is a little wind in the garden, grand-
father, and the rose leaves are falling.



The Intruder. 21

THE FATHER.

Well, shut the door, Ursula. It is late.

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes, father. I cannot shut the door, father.

THE TWO OTHER DAUGHTERS.

We cannot shut the door.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Why, children, what is the matter with the
door?

THE UNCLE.

You need not say that in such an extraor-
dinary voice. I will go and help them.

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

We do not quite succeed in closing it.

THE UNCLE.

It is because of the damp. Let us all push
together. . . . There must be something be-
tween the doors.

THE FATHER.

The carpenter will set it right to-morrow.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Is the carpenter coming to-morrow?



22 The Intruder.

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes, grandfather; he is coming to work in
the cellar.

THE GRANDFATHER.

He will make a noise in the house ! . . .

THE DAUGHTER.

I will tell him to work quietly.

[All at once the sound of the sharpening of a
scythe is heard outside.]

THE GRANDFATHER.

{Startled^ Oh !

THE UNCLE.

Ursula, what is that?

THE DAUGHTER.

I don't quite know ; I think it is the gar-
dener. I cannot see very well ; he is in the
shadow of the house.

THE FATHER.

It is the gardener going to mow.

THE UNCLE.

He mows by night?

THE FATHER.

Is not to-morrow Sunday ? Yes. I noticed
that the grass was very high about the house.



The Intruder. 23

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me his scythe makes as much
noise

THE DAUGHTER.

He is mowing near the house.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Can you see him, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

No, grandfather ; he is in the dark.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me his scythe makes as much
noise

THE DAUGHTER.

That is because you have a very sensitive ear,
grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I am afraid he will wake my daughter.

THE UNCLE.

We hardly hear him.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear him as if he were mowing in the house.

THE UNCLE.

She will not hear it ; there is no danger.



24 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

It seems to me the lamp is not burning well
this evening.

THE UNCLE.

It wants filling.

THE FATHER.

I saw it filled this morning. It has burnt
badly ever since the window was shut.

THE UNCLE.

I think the chimney is dim.

THE FATHER.

It will burn better soon.

THE DAUGHTER.

Grandfather is asleep. He has not slept
before for three nights.

THE FATHER.

He has been very worried.

THE UNCLE.

He always worries too much. There are
times when he will not listen to reason.

THE FATHER.

It is quite excusable at his age.

THE UNCLE.

God knows what we shall be like at his age !



The Intruder. *5

THE FATHER.

He is nearly eighty years old.

THE UNCLE.

Well, then, he has a right to be strange.

THE FATHER.

Perhaps we shall be stranger than he is.

THE UNCLE.

One does not know what may happen. He
is odd sometimes.

THE FATHER.

He is like all the blind.

THE UNCLE.

They reflect too much.

THE FATHER.

They have too much time to spare.

THE UNCLE.

They have nothing else to do.

THE FATHER.

And, besides, they have no amusements.

THE UNCLE.

That must be terrible.



26 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

It seems they get used to it.

THE UNCLE.

I cannot imagine that.

THE FATHER.

They are certainly to be pitied.

THE UNCLE.

Not to know where one is, not to know
whence one has come, not to know whither
one is going, no longer to distinguish midday
from midnight, nor summer from winter. . . .
And always that darkness, that darkness ! . . .
I would rather not live. ... Is it absolutely
incurable ?

THE FATHER.

It appears so.

THE UNCLE.

But he is not absolutely blind?

THE FATHER.

He can distinguish a strong light.

THE UNCLE.

Let us take care of our poor eyes.

THE FATHER.

He often has strange ideas.



The Intruder. 27

THE UNCLE.

There are times when he is not amusing.

THE FATHER.

He says absolutely everything he thinks.

THE UNCLE.

But formerly he was not like this?

THE FATHER.

No ; formerly he was as rational as we are ;
he never said anything extraordinary. It is
true, Ursula encourages him a little too much ;
she answers all his questions

THE UNCLE.

It would be better not to answer. It 's a
mistaken kindness to him. \_Ten o'clock strikes.

s

THE GRANDFATHER.

[ Waking up.~\ Am I facing the glass door ?

THE DAUGHTER.

You have had a good sleep, grandfather?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Am I facing the glass door?

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes, grandfather.



28 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

There is no one at the glass door?

THE DAUGHTER.

No, grandfather ; I see no one.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I thought some one was waiting. No one
has come, Ursula?

THE DAUGHTER.

No one, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

\To the UNCLE and FATHER.] And your
sister has not come?

THE UNCLE.

It is too late ; she will not come now. It is
not nice of her.

THE FATHER.

I begin to be anxious about her.

[A noise, as of some one coming into the house.]

THE UNCLE.

She is here ! Did you hear?

THE FATHER.

Yes ; some one has come in at the basement.



The Intruder. 29

THE UNCLE.

It must be our sister. I recognized her step.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I heard slow footsteps.

THE FATHER.

She came in very softly.

THE UNCLE.

She knows there is sickness. . . .

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear nothing more now.

THE UNCLE.

She will come up immediately ; they will tell
her we are here.

THE FATHER.

I am glad she has come.

THE UNCLE.

I was sure she would come this evening.

THE GRANDFATHER.

She is a long time coming up.

THE UNCLE.

However, it must be she.



30 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

We are not expecting any one else.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear no noise in the basement.

THE FATHER.

I will call the maid. We must know what to
expect. [He pulls the bell-rope,

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear a noise on the stairs already.

THE FATHER.

It is the maid coming up.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me she is not alone.

THE FATHER.

It is because the maid makes so much
noise. . . .

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me she is not alone.

THE FATHER.

She is getting terribly stout ; I believe she is
dropsical.



The Intruder. 3 1

THE UNCLE.

It is time you got rid of her ; you will have
her on your hands.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear your sister's step !

THE FATHER.

I hear no one but the maid.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It is your sister ! It is your sister !

\A knock at the secret door.

THE UNCLE.

She is knocking at the door of the private
stairway.

THE FATHER.

I will go open it myself, because that little
door makes too much noise ; it is only used
when we want to come up without being seen.
\jHe partly opens the little door ; the MAID-
SERVANT remains outside in the opening.] Where
are you?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

Here, sir.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Your sister is at the door.

THE UNCLE.

I see no one but the maid.



3 2 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

There is no one there but the maid. \To
the MAID -SERVANT.] Who was it who came into
the house?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

Came into the house, sir?

THE FATHER.

Yes ; some one came just now ?

THE SERVANT.

No one came, sir.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Who is it sighs so ?

THE UNCLE.

It is the maid ; she is out of breath.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Is she crying?

THE UNCLE.

Why, no ; why should she be crying ?

THE FATHER.

\To the MAID-SERVANT.] No one came in
just now?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

No, sir.



The Intruder. 33

THE FATHER.

But we heard the door open !

THE MAID-SERVANT.

It was I shutting the door, sir.

THE FATHER.

It was open ?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

Yes, sir.

THE FATHER.

Why was it open, at this hour?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

I do not know, sir. / had shut it.

THE FATHER.

But then who was it opened it?

THE MAID-SERVANT.

I do not know, sir. Some one must have
gone out after me, sir.

THE FATHER.

You must be careful. Don't push the door;
you know what a noise it makes !

THE MAID- SERVANT.

But I am not touching the door, sir.



34 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

But you are. You push as if you were trying
to get into the room.

THE MAID-SERVANT.

But I am thr.ee steps away from the door,
sir.

THE FATHER.

Don't talk quite so loudly.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Are you putting out the light?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

No, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It seems to me it is dark all at once.

THE FATHER.

[To the MAID-SERVANT.] You may go down
now ; but do not make so much noise on the
stairs.

THE MAID-SERVANT.

I did not make any noise on the stairs, sir.

THE FATHER.

I tell you, you made a noise. Go down
softly ; you will wake your mistress.



The Intruder. 35

THE MAID-SERVANT. .

It was not I who made a noise, sir.

THE FATHER.

And if any one comes now, say that we are
not at home.

THE UNCLE.

Yes ; say that we are not at home.

THE GRANDFATHER.

[Shuddering."] You must not say that !

THE FATHER.

. . . Except to my sister and the doctor.

THE UNCLE.

When will the doctor come?

THE FATHER.

He will not be able to come before midnight.

[He shuts the door. A clock is heard striking
eleven.]

THE GRANDFATHER.

She has come in?

THE FATHER.

Who, pray?

THE GRANDFATHER.

The maid.



36 The Intruder.

THE FATHER.

Why, no ; she has gone downstairs.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I thought she was sitting at the table.

THE UNCLE.

The maid?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Yes.

THE UNCLE.

Well, that 's all that was lacking

THE GRANDFATHER.

No one has come into the room?

THE FATHER.

Why no ; no one has come in.

THE GRANDFATHER.

And your sister is rot here?

THE UNCLE.

Our sister has not come. Where have your
thoughts wandered ?

THE GRANDFATHER.

You want to deceive me.

THE UNCLE.

Deceive you?



The Intruder. 37

THE GRANDFATHER.

Ursula, tell me the truth, for the love of God !

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

Grandfather ! Grandfather ! what is the matter
with you ?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Something has happened ! . . . I am sure
my daughter is worse ! . . .

THE UNCLE.

Are you dreaming?

THE GRANDFATHER.

You do not want to tell me ! . . . I see
plainly there is something ! . .

THE UNCLE.

In that case you see better than we.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Ursula, tell me the truth.

THE DAUGHTER.

But we are telling you the truth, grandfather !

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are not speaking in your natural voice.

THE FATHER.

That is because you frighten her.



38 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Your voice is changed, yours, too !

THE FATHER.

But you are going mad !

[He and the Uncle make signs to each other
that the Grandfather has lost his reason.]

THE GRANDFATHER.

I hear plainly that you are afraid.

THE FATHER.

But what should we be afraid of?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Why do you want to deceive me?

THE UNCLE.

Who thinks of deceiving you?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Why have you put out the light?

THE UNCLE.

But the light has not been put out ; it is as
light as before.

THE DAUGHTER.

It seems to me the lamp has gone down.

THE FATHER.

I see as well as usual.



The Intruder. 39

THE GRANDFATHER.

I have millstones on my eyes ! Children,
tell me what is happening here ! Tell me, for
the love of God, you who can see ! I am here,
all alone, in darkness without end ! I do not
know who seats himself beside me ! I do
not know what is happening two steps from
me ! . . . Why were you speaking in a low
voice just now?

THE FATHER.

No one spoke in a low voice.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You spoke in a low voice at the door.

THE FATHER.

You heard all I said.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You brought some one into the room.

THE FATHER.

But I tell you no one has come in !

THE GRANDFATHER.

Is it your sister or a priest ? You must not
try to deceive me. Ursula^ who was it that
came in?

THE DAUGHTER.

No one, grandfather.



4 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You must not try to deceive me ; I know
what I know ! How many are we here ?

THE DAUGHTER.

There are six of us about the table,
grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are all about the table?

THE DAUGHTER.

Yes, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are there, Paul?

THE FATHER.

Yes.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are there, Oliver?

THE UNCLE.

Why, yes ; why, yes ; I am here, in my usual
place. This is not serious, is it?

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are there, Genevieve?

ONE OF THE DAUGHTERS.

Yes, grandfather.



The Intruder. 4 1

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are there, Gertrude?

ANOTHER DAUGHTER.

Yes, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are here, Ursula?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

Yes, grandfather, by your side.

THE GRANDFATHER.

And who is that sitting there ?

THE DAUGHTER.

Where do you mean, grandfather? There
is no one.

THE GRANDFATHER.

There, there in the midst of us !

THE DAUGHTER.

But there is no one, grandfather.

THE FATHER.

We tell you there is no one !

THE GRANDFATHER.

But you do not see, any of you !



42 The Intruder

THE UNCLE.

Oh, come now ; you are joking.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I have no wish to joke, I can assure you,

THE UNCLE.

Well, then, believe those that see.

THE GRANDFATHER.

[ Undecidedly^ I thought there was some one.
... I believe I shall not live much longer. . . .

THE UNCLE.

Why should we go to work to deceive you ?
What good would that do?

THE FATHER.

We ought clearly to tell you the truth.

THE UNCLE.

What good would it do to deceive each other ?

THE FATHER.

You could not live long without finding it out.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I wish I were at home !

THE FATHER.

3ut you are at home here !



The Intruder. 43



THE UNCLE.

Are we not at home ?

THE FATHER.

Are you among strangers?

THE UNCLE.

You are strange this evening.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It is you who seem strange to me !

THE FATHER.

Do you want anything?

THE GRANDFATHER.

I do not know what ails me.

THE UNCLE.

Will you take anything?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

Grandfather ! grandfather ! What do yon
want, grandfather?

THE GRANDFATHER.

Give me your little hands, my children.

THE THREE DAUGHTERS.

Yes, grandfather.



44 The Intruder.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Why are you all three trembling, my children ?

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

We are hardly trembling at all, grandfather.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I believe you are all three pale.

THE ELDEST DAUGHTER.

It is late, grandfather, and we are tired.

THE FATHER.

You must go to bed, and grandfather too
would do better to take a little rest.

THE GRANDFATHER.

I could not sleep to-night !

THE UNCLE.

We will wait tor the doctor.

THE GRANDFATHER.

Prepare me for the truth !

THE UNCLE.

But there is no truth !

THE GRANDFATHER.

Then I do not know what there is !



The Intruder. 45

THE UNCLE.

I tell you there is nothing at all !

THE GRANDFATHER.

I would like to see my poor daughter !

THE FATHER.

But you know very well that is impossible;
she must not be wakened needlessly.

THE UNCLE.

You will see her to-morrow.

THE GRANDFATHER.

We hear no sound in her room.

THE UNCLE.

I should be uneasy if I heard any sound.

THE GRANDFATHER.

It is very long since I saw my daughter. . . .
I took her hands yesterday evening, but I could
not see her ! ... I no longer know what she
is becoming. ... I no longer know how she
is. ... I am no longer familiar with her face.
. . . She must have changed in these weeks !
... I felt the little bones of her cheeks under
my hands. . . . There is nothing but the dark-
ness between her and me, and all of you ! . . .
This is not life this is not living ! . . . You
sit there, all of you, with open eyes that look at



46 The Intruder.

my dead eyes, and not one of you has pity ! . . .
I do not know what ails me. . . . No one tells
what ought to be told me. . . . And everything
is terrifying when you dream of it ! ... But
why do you not speak?

THE UNCLE.

What would you have us say, since you will
not believe us ?

THE GRANDFATHER.

You are afraid of betraying yourselves !

THE FATHER.

Do be reasonable now.

THE GRANDFATHER.

For a long time something has been hidden
from me here ! . . . Something has happened
in the house. . . . But I begin to understand
now. ... I have been deceived too long !
You think, then, that I shall never find out any-


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