Why does it not live with you?"
"He lives with a sister of his father," she answered, hardly above
her breath.
"And you let it go?"
"The father would not let me keep it. And I could not do anything
against it because--it is not registered as my child, and does not
bear my name."
The past, to which Wilhelm and Pilar had closed their eyes till now,
presented itself that afternoon in incontestably lively form before
them. Dispelled was the artificial fabric of their dream of a love
that was as old as life itself--dispelled the poetic figment that
they were in the honeymoon of a young pure union of the heart! These
three children told a tale of Pilar in which Wilhelm bore no part,
and the chapters of that story bore different names, as did the
children themselves.
Pilar divined easily enough what was passing in Wilhelm's mind at
sight of the children. She never let them come to the house again,
but henceforth went to see them at their respective homes. He was
sure that they liked coming to the Boulevard Pereire, and was sorry
that they should miss this pleasure on his account. Pilar begged
him, however, not to allude to the subject again--he was dearer to
her than her children, and there was nothing she would not do to
spare him a moment's unpleasantness.
Pages:
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473