Spring, the great miracle-worker, also came to Lili’s assistance. Yet she must still pass many days chained to the bed, in the white sick-room. But with each new day her life became healthier. The pains departed. Everything took a normal course. The Professor was satisfied. She was still utterly exhausted. And hence it came about that she lay as if in a coma, and she spent most of the day absorbed in herself and dreaming. The world outside did not trouble her. She was hardly aware of it. Newspapers and books which were brought to her she left untouched. She had only one wish: that nothing should ever be different, that she could always remain here, in the peace of the Women’s Clinic. And when the thought sometimes occurred to her that the day would come when she would have to go forth into the world outside, beyond the park wall of this large, quiet house, she was assailed by overwhelming fear. Thus she developed a desire to remain here as a nurse, to build up her strength in order to be able to help other women once she was well. Now and then she broached the matter to Grete or to the Matron, or the other nurses, who merely nodded. Once she asked Grete if she might not speak to the Professor about it. Grete thought she might. But immediately a fresh fear welled up in her. “If he should say no! Perhaps I shall not be strong enough. Perhaps he will tell me that he did not save me for this …”
And Grete had no answer.
During many long nights Lili’s fear of life outside sought refuge in another peaceful thought. Could she not enter a convent, become a nun? She fell into reveries of remote, secluded convents somewhere in Italy, Spain, or South Germany. No one should know there whence she had come and what a destiny had been hers. No one … She would weep for hours for fear of the life outside, of this life which seemed to her like an enemy. There her secret would be rudely unveiled, and she would be regarded as a phenomenon. Her fate would be the subject of vulgar gossip; she would be stared at, and she would not be left in peace. And the healthier her body became, the more vivid became her fear of her future among people. Yet she no longer dared to speak about it to others.
At length the morning came when she was allowed to leave the sick-room for the first time. Lying back in a bathchair she was pushed into the warm, sunny April morning, into the middle of a soft green garden. It was her first untrammelled, happy day. She was like a newborn baby. All her senses were fresh and full of wonder. She saw every insect which fluttered in the blue sunny air and every flapping of wings from tree to tree. The scent of the little yellow, pink-and-white spring flowers of the hedges and borders held a new message for her. And with attentive eyes she regarded a magnolia tree holding up its large, glistening buds to the sunny air. Upon a branch sat two young birds huddled closely together. Lili closed her eyes. A soft wind played about the white birch trees. The spring soil smelt sweet and warm. The birds twittered.
To keep her eyes shut, only to listen, only to smell. More than this she could not do. In this posture the Professor found her. “You look very happy,” he said, and patted her hand.
“My life is your work,” she reflected. “And I should so much like to thank you for the first spring day of my life, because you were merciful to me. I believe I am the happiest creature in the world.” But all this remained unspoken; she felt it only in her heart.
“You look happy,” said the Professor, and she merely answered:
“Yes, Professor.”
Many happy spring days came, and at last the day also came when she could be lifted out of the invalid’s chair and walk a few steps in the garden on Grete’s arm. Everything was as before, and yet everything seemed so changed, she thought. And on all the paths she saw again young, pregnant women, like blue crocuses, as she thought, smiling.
One morning, before she had strolled out into the park, Grete and the Matron came into her room and handed her a sealed letter, which had come from Berlin. She opened the letter, and a profound emotion overwhelmed her. A few weeks before, the Professor had told her that he would assist her to confront the world for what she was, a woman. He had promised her to write to the Danish Embassy in Berlin. Now she took from the envelope a passport, her own passport with her own photograph, and upon the passport was written the name which she had chosen out of gratitude to the city where she had found peace and life itself: Lili Elbe.
She sank into the chair and said very softly: “Leave me alone now for a little while.” Grete and the Matron understood and went out. For a long time Lili remained sitting very quietly on the chair. She then went softly and diffidently into the park, and sat on a seat which was flooded by sunshine. This little booklet, her passport, she held like a valuable present in both hands. It was the last day but one of April. In two days it would be the first of May. Andreas had kept his promise. He was dead, and she was alive – Lili Elbe.
So the Professor found her. He sat down beside her. Not a word was said. The next morning he came again, and his voice was softer than usual. His rather stern face beamed with benevolence. He held her hands and spoke many hopeful words to her. Lili knew that in a few hours he would depart, and be away for several weeks. She pulled herself together and tried to thank him for all he had been to her. But she could not utter a word. When he had gone she felt utterly lost. Only one thing gave her consolation: that she was allowed to remain in this asylum which he had given her, and that she might here await his return.
He was leaving for the South.
A few days later everything had become lonely and empty. Easter was over and Grete was saying good-bye. She was obliged to return to Paris for some time. It was a Monday morning. The car which was to take Grete to the station stopped on the drive in front of the hospital. Lili went with her to the vehicle. It was the first time that Lili had ventured into the world without, beyond the park wall. When Lili returned alone through the park, it was some time before she realized where she was going.