“Now, you mustn’t come any farther with me,” she says. “Thank you for coming so far.”
I bowed; I daren’t say anything; I took off my hat and stood bareheaded. I wonder if she will give me her hand.
“Why don’t you ask me to go back a little way with you?” she asks, in a low voice, looking down at the toe of her shoe.
“Great Heavens!” I reply, beside myself, “Great Heavens, if you only would!”
“Yes; but only a little way.”
And we turned round.
I was fearfully confused. I absolutely did not know if I were on my head or my heels. This creature upset all my chain of reasoning; turned it topsy-turvy. I was bewitched and extraordinarily happy. It seemed to me as if I were being dragged enchantingly to destruction. She had expressly willed to go back; it wasn’t my notion, it was her own desire. I walk on and look at her, and get more and more bold. She encourages me, draws me to her by each word she speaks. I forget for a moment my poverty, my humble position, my whole miserable condition. I feel my blood course madly through my whole body, as in the old days before I caved in, and resolved to feel my way by a little ruse.
“By-the-way, it wasn’t you I followed that time,” said I. “It was your sister.”
“Was it my sister?” she questions, in the highest degree amazed. She stands still, looks up at me, and positively waits for an answer. She puts the question in all sober earnest.
“Yes,” I replied. “Hum‑m, that is to say, it was the younger of the two ladies who went on in front of me.”
“The youngest, eh? eh? a-a-ha!” she laughed out all at once, loudly, heartily, like a child. “Oh, how sly you are; you only said that just to get me to raise my veil, didn’t you? Ah, I thought so; but you may just wait till you are blue first … just for punishment.”
We began to laugh and jest; we talked incessantly all the time. I do not know what I said, I was so happy. She told me that she had seen me once before, a long time ago, in the theatre. I had then comrades with me, and I behaved like a madman; I must certainly have been tipsy that time too, more’s the shame.
Why did she think that?
Oh, I had laughed so.
“Really, a‑ah yes; I used to laugh a lot in those days.”
“But now not any more?”
“Oh yes; now too. It is a splendid thing to exist sometimes.”
We reached Carl Johann. She said: “Now we won’t go any farther,” and we returned through University Street. When we arrived at the fountain once more I slackened my pace a little; I knew that I could not go any farther with her.
“Well, now you must turn back here,” she said, and stopped.
“Yes, I suppose I must.”
But a second after she thought I might as well go as far as the door with her. Gracious me, there couldn’t be anything wrong in that, could there?
“No,” I replied.
But when we were standing at the door all my misery confronted me clearly. How was one to keep up one’s courage when one was so broken down? Here I stood before a young lady, dirty, ragged, torn, disfigured by hunger, unwashed, and only half-clad; it was enough to make one sink into the earth. I shrank into myself, bent my head involuntarily, and said:
“May I not meet you any more then?”
I had no hope of being permitted to see her again. I almost wished for a sharp No, that would pull me together a bit and render me callous.
“Yes,” she whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
A pause. …
“Won’t you be so kind as to lift your veil, only just for a minute,” I asked. “So that I can see whom I have been talking to. Just for one moment, for indeed I must see whom I have been talking to.”
Another pause. …
“You can meet me outside here on Tuesday evening,” she said. “Will you?”
“Yes, dear lady, if I have permission to.”
“At eight o’clock.”
“Very well.”
I stroked down her cloak with my hand, merely to have an excuse for touching her. It was a delight to me to be so near her.
“And you mustn’t think all too badly of me,” she added; she was smiling again.
“No.”
Suddenly she made a resolute movement and drew her veil up over her forehead; we stood and gazed at one another for a second.
“Ylajali!” I cried. She stretched herself up, flung her arms round my neck and kissed me right on the mouth—only once, swiftly, bewilderingly swiftly, right on the mouth. I could feel how her bosom heaved; she was breathing violently. She wrenched herself suddenly out of my clasp, called a good night, breathlessly, whisperingly, and turned and ran up the stairs without a word more. …
The hall door shut.
It snowed still more the next day, a heavy snow mingled with rain; great wet flakes that fell to earth and were turned to mud. The air was raw and icy. I woke somewhat late, with my head in a strange state of confusion, my heart intoxicated from the foregone evening by the agitation of that delightful meeting. In my rapture (I had lain a while awake and fancied Ylajali at my side) I spread out my arms and embraced myself and kissed the air. At length I dragged myself out of bed and procured a fresh cup of milk, and straight on top of that a plate of beef. I was no longer hungry, but my nerves were in a highly-strung condition.
I went off to the clothes-shop in the bazaar. It occurred to me that I might pick up a secondhand waistcoat cheaply, something to put on under my coat; it didn’t matter what.
I went up the steps to the bazaar and took hold of one and began to examine it.
While
