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168 falling, now in vertical streaks, now aslant, driven by the raging wind.

"I so well remember this weather," he said, "in the old days, when I used to sit chatting with you at the Hague, in your room which was so like this room."

"Yes," she said.

"I would come late in the afternoon, find you sitting in the dark and scold you because you had not been out; and we used to talk about all sorts of things. . . ."

"It's a long time ago."

"The years fly past. Do you remember, we used to fight a little, both of us, against the years that were overtaking us, against the years that would make us old?"

She laughed:

"Yes," she said. "We no longer fight against them now. We are old now. We have grown old."

"We are growing old. And yet what an amount of youth a human being possesses! As we grow older, we always think, 'Now we are growing old.' And, when we are older than when we thought that, we feel . . . that we have always remained the same as we were from a child."

"Yes . . . a person doesn't change."

"Only all his joys and all his sorrows change and become blurred; but we ourselves do not."

"No, we don't change. Then why should there be joy and sorrow . . .when, after many years, we have remained the same as we were from childhood?"

"Because we remain the same . . . and yet do not remain the same."

"Yes," she said, smiling. "I understand what you mean. We remain the same from childhood