Any woman
would have been paid a thousand times over. His fancy might last
a few months. Perhaps he would take her to Berlin--or to some
lovely secret spot in the mountains where he could visit her.
What heaven--what heaven! She wept, hiding her face on her hot,
dry hands.
But it would not last long--and he would again think only of the
immense work--the august Machine, of which he was a mechanical
part--and he would be obliged to see and talk to her, Mathilde
Hirsch, having forgotten the rest. She could only hold herself
decently in check by telling herself again and again that it was
only natural that such things should come and go in his magnificent
life, and that the sooner it began the sooner it would end.
It was a lovely morning when her pupil walked with her in Kensington
Gardens, and, quite naturally, strolled towards the Round Pond.
Robin was happy because there were flutings of birds in the air,
gardeners were stuffing crocuses and hyacinths into the flower
beds, there were little sweet scents floating about and so it was
Spring. She pulled a bare looking branch of a lilac bush towards
her and stooped and kissed the tiny brown buttons upon it, half
shyly.
"I can't help it when I see the first ones swelling on the twigs.
They are working so hard to break out into green," she said. "One
loves everything at this time--everything! Look at the children
round the pond.
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