Though our instinct reveled in her innate joy, our peevish knowledge of the things of this world rather frowned on it, that essentially frightened, ever-present knowledge which cowers in the cellars of existence, accustomed to the worst by habit, by experience.
Munduko gauzez genuen jakite zitalak muzin egiten zion poz horri. Instintoak poz hartzen zuen, baina jakiteak ez, beti han, hondoan beldurtua, bizitzaren sotoan izkutatua, ohituraz, eskarmentuz, ezin gaizkiago menderatua.