She wanted to call to him, to ask for his support, to ask him to say pacifying words. But she didn’t want to wake him. She feared he didn’t know how to make her rise to a higher feeling, to the realization of that which at present was still a sweet embryo. She knew that even in this moment she was alone, that the man would wake up distant. That he could intercept with a block —an absent-minded, lukewarm word—the narrow, glowing path where she was taking her first stumbling steps.
