what it was to be unsure。 What then was it that gave him this
curious stability？
She did not know。 She wondered。 She looked round the room he
lived in。 It had a close intimacy that fascinated and almost
frightened her。 The furniture was old and familiar as old
people； the whole place seemed so kin to him； as if it partook
of his being； that she was uneasy。
〃It is already a long time that you have lived in this
house……yes？〃 she asked。
〃I've always lived here；〃 he said。
〃Yes……but your people……your family？〃
〃We've been here above two hundred years；〃 he said。 Her eyes
were on him all the time； wide…open and trying to grasp him。 He
felt that he was there for her。
〃It is your own place； the house； the
farm？〃
〃Yes；〃 he said。 He looked down at her and met her look。 It
disturbed her。 She did not know him。 He was a foreigner； they
had nothing to do with each other。 Yet his look disturbed her to
knowledge of him。 He was so strangely confident and direct。
〃You live quite alone？〃
〃Yes……if you call it alone？〃
She did not understand。 It seemed unusual to her。 What was
the meaning of it？
And whenever her eyes； after watching him for some time；
inevitably met his； she was aware of a heat beating up over her
consciousness。 She sat motionless and in conflict。 Who was this
strange man who was at once so ne