Just as they emerged from the park a violent gust tore her hat from her hair. She made an effort to recover it, but too late; it was blown back into the park. Irgens caught up with it as it was flattened against a tree. She stood still for a moment; then she, too, began to run in pursuit, and when at last they met by the tree her despair was less poignant. Irgens handed her the hat, and she thanked him. She looked embarrassed. As they were walking down the sloping driveway toward the street the wind made Aagot turn and walk backward a few steps. Suddenly she stopped. She had discovered Coldevin; he was walking through the park in the direction of Tivoli. He walked hurriedly, furtively, and as if he did not want to be seen. So he was still in the city! And Aagot thought in sudden terror: What if he has seen us! As in a flash she understood. He was coming from the park; he had wanted to wait until they should have had time to reach the street; then the accident with her hat had spoiled his calculations and made him show himself too soon. How he stooped and squirmed! But he could find no hiding-place on this open driveway. Aagot called to him, but the wind drowned her voice. She waved her hand, but he pretended not to see it; he did not bow. And without another word to Irgens she ran after him, down the slope. The wind blew her skirts to her knees; she grabbed her hat with one hand and ran. She caught up with him by the first cross-street. He stopped and greeted her as usual--awkwardly, with an expression of melancholy gladness, moved in every fibre of his being. He was miserably dressed. "You--You must not come here and spy on me," she said hoarsely, all out of breath. She stood before him, breathing hard, angry, with flashing eyes. His lips parted but he could not speak; he did not know which way to turn. "Do you hear me?" "Yes--Have you been sick, perhaps? You haven't been out for two weeks now; of course, I don't _know_ that you haven't, but--" His helpless words, his wretched embarrassment, moved her; her anger died down, she was again on the verge of tears, and, deeply humiliated, she said: "Dear Coldevin, forgive me!" She asked him to forgive her! He did not know what to say to this, but answered abstractedly: "Forgive you? We won't speak about that--But why are you crying? I wish I hadn't met you--" "But I am glad I met you," she said. "I wanted to meet you; I think of you always, but I never see you--I long for you often." "Well, we won't speak about that, Miss Aagot. You know we have settled our affair. I can only wish you every happiness, every possible happiness." Coldevin had apparently regained his self-control; he commenced even to speak about indifferent matters: Was not this a fearful storm? God knew how the ships on the high seas were faring! She listened and answered. His composure had its effect on her, and she said quietly: