"One can't control one's likes . . . or one's dislikes."
"No. But I do like the girl . . . and I want you to try, as our friend, not to hate her . . . How seriously we're talking! I can't talk like that: I'm not used to it. I confess to you honestly, I'm getting frightened . . ."
"Of me? . . ."
"You're too big . . . to hate a child like that."
"I'm not big at all . . . I am very human. I sometimes feel very small. But you are right: to hate that child, for a single word which she said, for a touch of hostility which I felt in her, is very small. Thanks for the rebuke. I won't hate her, I promise you."
At first, the sombre austerity of his frown and his expression had almost terrified her. She now saw his lips laugh and his face light up.
"I'm going to apologize."
"No, don't do that."
"Yes, I will."
He went to Marianne; and Constance heard him say:
"Freule, I want to make friends."
She did not catch what Marianne answered, but she heard the little bells of Marianne's laughter and saw her put out her hand to Brauws. It was a reconciliation; and yet she felt that the hostility continued to exist, irreconcilably, like a hostility that was
