Every one, afraid of betraying the secret to her, looked at her with
strange glances; no one addressed her, and even her greetings were
scarcely returned. It was only Marianne's peculiar disposition that
prevented her from noticing this. And indeed, if any one did speak to
her and was drawn on to say anything about John's death, it was done in
the conjectural and soothing way to which she had been accustomed for
years; and Marianne did not believe it now any more than she had
formerly, because nobody ever said anything definite about the report of
his decease.
It would have been better if Amrei had known nothing about it, but there
was a strange, seductive charm in getting as close as possible to a
subject that was forbidden. Accordingly every one spoke to Amrei of the
mournful event, warned her not to tell Black Marianne anything about
it, and asked if the mother had no presentiments or dreams of her son's
death--if his spirit did not haunt the house. After she heard of it
Amrei was always trembling and quaking in secret; for she alone was
always near Black Marianne, and it was terrible to know something which
she was obliged to conceal from her. Even the people in whose house
Black Marianne had rented a small room could no longer bear to have her
near them, and they showed their sympathy by giving her notice to quit.
But how strangely things are associated in this life! As a result of
this very thing Amrei experienced joy as well as grief--for it opened up
her parents' home to her again.
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