He had loved her; they two had, in fact, faced the world together.
Now she was gone, and for ever behind him was the gap in life, the tear in the veil, through which his life seemed to drift slowly, as if he were drawn towards death.

He wanted someone of their own free initiative to help him.

The lesser things he began to let go from him, for fear of this big thing, the lapse towards death, following in the wake of his beloved.

Clara could not stand for him to hold on to.

She wanted him, but not to understand him.