.. oh, happy delusion!
And thus it goes on from day to day.
From morn to eve the woman accomplishes her usual work, her neighbours
and acquaintances perceive no change in her; but as soon as the sun
sets she leaves everyone and everything and avoids all society, for now
Halil is expecting her in the open bower of the little garden.
Punctually she appears before him as soon as the sun has set. It has
become quite a habit with her already. She so arranges her work that she
always has a leisure hour at such times. Sometimes, too, Halil is in a
good humour, but at others he is sad and sorrowful. She tells this to
the old serving-maid over and over again. Sometimes, too, she whispers
in her ear that Halil is cudgelling his brains with all sorts of great
ideas, but she is not to speak about it to anyone, as that might easily
cost Halil his life.
Poor Halil! Long, long ago his body has crumbled into dust, Death can do
him no harm now.
And thus the "White Rose" grows old and grey and gradually fades away.
Not a single night does the beloved guest remain away from her. For
years and years, long--long years, he comes to her every evening.
And as her son grows up, as he becomes a man with the capacity of
judging and understanding, he hears his mother conversing every evening
with an invisible shape, and she would have her little son greet this
stranger, for she tells him it is his father. And she praises the son to
the father, and says what a good, kind-hearted lad he is, and she
compares their faces one with the other.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219