Before her lover came to stay, the villa was just an empty name to her—four small rooms, a cupboard, and her own loneliness. Speaking to the villa itself, she describes how everything changed once he arrived. With the windows open, sunlight, flowers, and loveliness seem to enter like playful guests, laughing on the stairs, tiptoeing through the rooms, and hiding in corners. The house now holds their “childish happiness” instead of emptiness; it is no longer just a building but part of their secret. Even after the shutters close, she imagines those bright presences still lingering in the dark. The mood is tender and a little whimsical, especially in the final moment when the two lie close together and he asks, “Isn’t that laughter?” Love has made an ordinary little house feel alive, intimate, and almost enchanted.
Villa Pauline — Summary
But, ah! before he came You were only a name: Four little rooms and a cupboard Without a bone, And I was alone! Now with your windows wide Everything from outside Of sun and flower and loveliness Comes in to hide, To play, to laugh on the stairs, To catch unawares Our childish happiness, And to glide Through the four little rooms on tip-toe With lifted finger, Pretending we shall not know When the shutters are shut That they still linger Long, long after. Lying close in the dark He says to me: “Hark, Isn’t that laughter?”