PAUL (paces to and fro again). Yes, yes, how all of that comes back again! How it is resurrected from its sleep!... (He sits down before the fireplace in deep thought and stares into the fire.) AUNT CLARA (also goes to the fireplace). Right there, where you are sitting now, my boy, you often read fairy tales to me, about Snow-White and Cinderella and about the wolf and the old grandmother ... PAUL (dreaming). Fairy tales, yes indeed! AUNT CLARA. You sat here, and I here, and you held up your fairy tale book and acted as if you were grown up ... PAUL (smiling). I suppose that's the way one felt too! AUNT CLARA. And papa and mamma were out in society or in the city ... PAUL. Yes, quite so, that's it. For, on the whole, as I remember, I was not in this hall frequently. There was always a little fear mixed up with it. Quite natural! The pictures, the spaciousness, the emptiness and all that! Later that did disappear. The last time that I was in this room, when may it have been ...? (He leans his head on his hand in meditation.) AUNT CLARA. It was Christmas Eve, ten years ago, Paul. PAUL. Christmas Eve ten years ago! You may be right. I remember it was a short time before I had ... the crash with father. I had come home at Christmas just because I imagined that that was the best time to come to an understanding with father about all of those matters, my future and other affairs, and I also recall that I wanted to allow the holidays to pass before I dared to come out with my projects, the founding of my journal and my marriage and all the beautiful surprises! Oh it was postponed as long as possible. One did have an inkling of what it would lead to. Of course no one had an idea how it would _really_ turn out! AUNT CLARA. No, Paul, no one had an idea that that would be the last Christmas Eve that we should celebrate together. Your father least of all. All of us were as merry as ever. There stood the tree and the chandelier was lighted ...