Beyond the horizon, Spring was a maiden wild and pure; she wandered among the _tancas_ covered now with waving grass, she twittered with the water birds on the banks of lonely streams, she was merry with the lambs, with the leverets leaping among the cyclamen, or beneath the immense oaks sacred to the ancient shepherds of the Barbagia; she slept in the shadows of the moss-grown rocks, during the voluptuous noons, while round her bed of periwinkle and fern, golden insects buzzed their love stories, and bees sucked the dog roses extracting their bitter honey, sweet and bitter like the Sardinian soul. Anania lived and loved in that distant spring land. He sat at the window studying his books and watching the blue sky and the rosy clouds. He fancied himself an enamoured prisoner. A pleasant somnolence stole his strength, his will, his power of definite thought. Ideas came and went in his mind--like the people in the street. He made no effort to detain them, they passed languidly, leaving furrows of sadness in their wake. More than ever he loved solitude. His companion irked him. They were no longer entirely good friends. Daga tyrannised over the younger lad, he borrowed money (which he never repaid) he laughed at him and talked displeasingly. "We view life under different aspects," said Daga, "or, rather, I see it and you don't. I am short-sighted, but I have strong eyeglasses. People and things seen through them are small but very dear. You are short-sighted too, but you haven't even a pair of spectacles." Sometimes Anania did indeed believe he had a veil before his eyes. His blood ran with diffidence and apprehension. Even his love for Margherita was mixed with anxiety; and this nostalgia, this love of solitude, this sleepiness of spring, this indifference to life--to that imperious life which had ever eluded him--all this was just diffidence, grief, and apprehension; and indeed he knew it. One day at the end of May, Anania surprised his companion kissing the elder daughter of the landlady. "You are a brute!" he exclaimed, "haven't you been making love to the other one?" They quickly got to high words. "Why, you fool, it's the girls who come and throw themselves into my arms. Am I to push them away? If the world walks sideways, let us find our advantage in it. It's the women nowadays who corrupt the men, and I should be stupider even than you if I didn't accept their offers, up to a certain point!" "That's very fine," returned Anania, "but why do these adventures happen only to certain people? What about me, for instance?"