Cesca now what she had been in the old days. She had no longer the tranquil heart and open mind, ready to receive the sorrows of others and able to give comfort; and it hurt her to feel that she could no longer help.
Cesca had gone to Moss one day to do some shopping. Jenny preferred to stay at home, and was spending the day in the garden reading, so as not to think. Then, when she found that she could not pay attention to her book, she started knitting, but soon lost count of her stitches, pulled them out, and went on again, trying to be more attentive. Cesca did not come back to dinner as she had promised, and Jenny dined alone, killing the afternoon by smoking cigarettes which she did not enjoy, and knitting, though her work constantly dropped on to her lap.
At last, about ten o'clock Cesca came driving up the avenue; Jenny had gone to meet her, and the moment she sat down beside her in the cart she saw that something had happened, but neither of them said a word.
Later, when Francesca had had something to eat and they were having a cup of tea, she said quietly without looking at Jenny:
"Can you guess whom I met in town today?"
"No."
"Hans Hermann. He is on a visit at the island and living with a rich woman who seems to have taken him up."
"Is his wife with him?" asked Jenny.
"No; they are divorced. I saw in the papers that they had lost their little boy in the spring. I am sorry for her"—and Cesca began to talk of other things.
When Jenny was in bed Cesca came quietly into her room, sitting down at the foot end of the bed and pulling her night-
