“So finally nothing could be done for him, you say. He was just at the promising age, but—not having visited the hospital for some time, I never imagined anything but that probably he was just about well. Then when was it—his death?”
“The first seventh-day was just yesterday.”
“And at the hospital—?”
“Yes.”
“Indeed, this is a surprise to me.”
“Anyway, as we did everything that could be done, there’s nothing to do but be resigned, but nevertheless, when I think how we raised him, I can’t keep myself from fits of complaining.”
While conversing thus, the professor became aware of a surprising fact. It was the fact that in neither her attitude nor her demeanor did she seem in the least to be talking about her own son’s death. She had no tears in her eyes. Her voice was natural. Besides, a smile played about the corners of her mouth. So if anybody had simply seen her outward appearance without hearing her words, he surely could have thought nothing