"I should not be at all surprised," I continued, "if she, with those precocious eyes and that wonderful composure, had already traversed the agonies of hopeless love. Do not forget her Polish father. Polish girls begin early both to excite and to feel passion. How the poor child ever got into that fly-trap, God knows. But you and I together should find it difficult to deliver her out of it." After that followed a silent quarter of an hour, during which he turned over my MS. poems. "I should like to copy out this song," he suddenly said, reaching out a page to me. "What for?" asked I. "Bastel, I half suspect you want to pass it off as your own." "Shame upon you!" returned he with a deep flush, "_I_ give myself out for a poet! But I have a tune running in my head; it is long since I have composed anything." "Look out something better and more cheerful. What could you make of that feeble-minded whimper? That song is half a year old" (dated from that 'olden time' that I could not myself distinctly remember!) He had taken back the sheet, and was now bending over it, being somewhat short-sighted, and singing in a low voice the following verses to a simple pathetic melody: "How could I e'er deserve thee, By serving long years through; Though thou wert fain to own me, Most stedfast and most true. Or what though high exalted, Though glory were my meed: Love is a free gift from above, Desert it will not heed. "Thou tree with head low bending, Thy blossoms may prove vain; Who knows if God will send thee The blessing of his rain? Thou heart by joy and anguish Proved and refined indeed: Love is a free gift from above, Desert it will not heed." He sprang up, just gave me an absent nod, and rushed out of the room. Not long after I went out myself. I had no particular object, except to quiet the tumult in my veins by bodily fatigue. After walking with great rapidity about the town for an hour or so, I found myself unintentionally in the neighbourhood of the mysterious street. It attracted and repelled me both. I had a dim consciousness of not having played a very creditable part the night before. I was pretty sure that the young stranger who had so zealously offered himself as her knight, would be greeted by a satirical smile by Lottka. But that was reason the more, I argued, for seeking to give her a better impression of me. And therefore I plucked up courage, and rapidly turned the corner. At the same moment I was aware of my friend and rival, his cap pressed down on his brow, advancing with great strides towards the small green house, from a contrary direction. He too was aware of me, and we each of us came to a halt and then turned sharp round the following moment as though we had mistaken our way.