The old house

Összefoglaló

A door closed quietly in the corridor with a spasmodic creaking. Ulwing the builder would have liked it better if it had been slammed. But his son shut every door so care­fully. He could not say why. “What is going to happen when I don’t stand by his side?” he shuddered. His vitality was so inexhaustible that the idea of death always struck him as something strange, antagonistic. “What is going to happen?” The question died away, he gave it no further thought. He stepped towards the next room… his grand­children! They would continue what the great carpenter began. They would be strong. He opened the door. He crossed the dining room. He smelt apples and bread in the dark. One more room, and beyond that the children.