CORNELLI
Cornelli was already running into the house to the living-room and to her own wardrobe. Yes, everything had remained the same. She flew outside again to the mother, to lead her into the house. The child’s face fairly beamed with joy.
Cornelli’s father was busy working in his office. Hearing the sound of the approaching wheels, he started. “Here they are already,” he said to himself. He hastily threw off his working coat and putting on a good coat left the iron foundry. While he was walking across the courtyard he sighed deeply. Freshly stamped in his memory, he saw before him his only child as she had looked when he had returned from his journey a year ago. Cornelli had stood before him shyly, with averted glance, resembling a little savage, who had never been combed.
“I wonder what the child is like now?” he muttered to himself.
As he entered the living room Cornelli looked up at him. The Director was quite startled at what he saw. Now Cornelli flew up to him.
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