Instead of replying I folded her in my arms; a deep inward, yet
vaguely sad happiness filled my breast, my eyes grew moist, and a
tear fell upon her hand.

"How can you cry!" she exclaimed, "you are a child!"

* * * * *

On a pleasure drive we met the Russian prince in his carriage. He
seemed to be unpleasantly surprised to see me by Wanda's side, and
looked as if he wanted to pierce her through and through with his
electric gray eyes. She, however, did not seem to notice him. I felt
at that moment like kneeling down before her and kissing her feet.
She let her glance glide over him indifferently as though he were an
inanimate object, a tree, for instance, and turned to me with her
gracious smile.

* * * * *

When I said good-night to her to-day she seemed suddenly
unaccountably distracted and moody. What was occupying her?

"I am sorry you are going," she said when I was already standing on
the threshold.

"It is entirely in your hands to shorten the hard period of my
trial, to cease tormenting me--" I pleaded.

"Do you imagine that this compulsion isn't a torment for me, too,"