They were made in a certain way. They were governed. It seemed to her
that she looked out vaguely over a world of slaves, the serfs of God who
have never been emancipated. She had no hope. But just then she had no
fear. The past did not ebb from her, nor did the future steal towards
her. The tides were stilled. The pulses of life were stopped. Everything
was wrapped in a cold, grey calm. She had never been a very thoughtful
woman. She had not had much time for thought. That is what she herself
would probably have said. Seldom had she puzzled her head over the
mysteries of existence. Even now, when she confronted the great mystery
of her own, she did not think very definitely. Before Robin came her mind
had been in a fever. Now that he was gone the fever had gone with him.
Would it ever return? She did not ask or wonder.
The night fell and the servant came to summon her to dinner. She shook
her head.
"The signora will not eat anything?"
"No, thank you."
She took her arms from the wall and looked at the man.
"Could I have the boat?"
"The signora wishes to go on the lake?"
"Yes."
"I will tell Paolo."
Two or three minutes later the boy who had sung came to say that the boat
was ready.
Lady Holme fetched a cloak, and went down the dark stone staircase
between the lichen-covered walls to the tall iron gate. The boat was
lying by the outer steps. She got in and Paolo took the oars.
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