THE STRANGER.

She is looking at us....

THE OLD MAN.

No; she doesn’t know where she is looking:  her eyes do not wink.  She cannot see us; we are in the shade of great trees.  But do not go any nearer....  The two sisters of the dead girl are in the room too.  They are embroidering slowly; and the little child is asleep.  It is nine by the clock in the corner....  They suspect nothing, and they do not speak.

THE STRANGER.

If one could draw the father’s attention, and make him some sign?  He has turned his head this way.  Would you like me to knock at one of the windows?  One of them ought to be told before the others....

THE OLD MAN.

I don’t know which one to choose....  We must take great precautions....  The father is old and ailing....  So is the mother; and the sisters are too young....  And they all loved her with such love as will never be again....  I never saw a happier household....  No, no, do not go near the window; that would be worse than anything else....  It is better to announce it as simply as possible,—­as if it were an ordinary event,—­and not to look too sad; for otherwise their grief will wish to be greater than yours and will know of nothing more that it can do....  Let us go on the other side of the garden.  We will knock at the door and go in as if nothing had happened.  I will go in first:  they will not be surprised to see me; I come sometimes in the evening, to bring them flowers or fruit, and pass a few hours with them.

THE STRANGER.

Why must I go with you?  Go alone; I will wait till I am called.... 
They have never seen me....  I am only a passer-by; I am a stranger....

THE OLD MAN.

It is better not to be alone.  A sorrow that one does not bring alone is not so unmixed nor so heavy....  I was thinking of that as we were coming here....  If I go in alone, I shall have to be speaking from the first minute; in a few words they will know everything, and I shall have nothing more to say; and I am afraid of the silence following the last words that announce a woe....  It is then the heart is rent....  If we go in together, I shall tell them, for example, after going a long way about, “She was found so....  She was floating in the river, and her hands were clasped."...

THE STRANGER.

Her hands were not clasped; her arms were hanging down along her body.

THE OLD MAN.

You see, one speaks in spite of oneself....  And the sorrow is lost in the details;... but otherwise, if I go in alone, at the first words, knowing them as I do, it would be dreadful, and God knows what might happen....  But if we speak in turn, they will listen to us and not think to look the ill news in the face....  Do not forget the mother will be there, and that her life hangs by a thread....  It is good that the first wave break on some unnecessary words....  There should be a little talking around the unhappy, and they should have people about them....  The most indifferent bear unwittingly a part of the grief....  So, without noise or effort, it divides, like air or light....