attracting her attention.

When she had been acting and the theater had been empty for a long time,
and she left it, wrapped in valuable furs and got into the carriage of
her banker, which was waiting for her at the stage door, he always stood
there, often up to his ankles in snow, or in the pouring rain.

At first she did not notice him, but when her maid said something to her
in a whisper on one occasion, she looked round in surprise, and he got a
look from those large eyes, which were not dead then, but dark and
bright; a look which recompensed him for all his sufferings and filled
him with proud hopes, which constantly gained more power over the young
Idealist, who was usually so modest.

At last there was a thorough, silent understanding between the
theatrical princess and the dumb adorer. When she put her foot on the
carriage step, she looked round at him, and every time he stood there,
devouring her with his eyes; she saw it and got contentedly into her
carriage, but she did not see how he ran after the carriage, and how he
reached her house, panting for breath, when she did, nor how he lay down
outside after the door had closed behind her.

One stormy summer night, when the wind was howling in the chimneys, and
the rain was beating against the windows and on the pavement, the poor
student was again lying on the stone steps outside her house, when the
front door was opened very cautiously and quietly; for it was not the
banker who was leaving the house, but a wealthy young officer whom the
girl was letting out; he kissed the pretty little Cerebus as he put a
gold coin into her hand, and then accidentally trod on the Idealist, who
was lying outside.