His sufferings were forgotten as he leapt from the boat. Nor did
it disturb him that he did not meet his mother at the landing-
place, or near the house, nor see her on the terrace. He simply
rushed up the stairs and opened the door.
The candles in the windows gave but little light within. Indeed,
something had been put in the windows for them to stand on, so
that the interior was half in shadow. But he had come in from the
semi-darkness. He looked round for her, but he heard some one
crying at the other end of the room. There she sat, crouched in
the farthest corner of the sofa, with her feet drawn up under her,
as in old days when she was frightened. She did not stretch out
her arms; she remained huddled together. But he bent over her,
knelt down, laid his face on hers, wept with her. She had grown
fragile, thin, haggard, ah! as though she could be blown away. She
let him take her in his arms like a child and clasp her to his
breast; let him caress and kiss her. Ah, how ethereal she had
become! And those eyes, which at last he saw, now looked tearfully
out from their large orbits, but more innocently than a bird from
its nest.
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