Somewhere the "one" was surely to be found. Was it not possible for a favouring wave in this sea of humanity to toss him to her feet? One evening she put on simple, dark clothes--she might have been taken for a seamstress returning from work--and slipped down the street, as she used to when Richard's house drew her to it with a thousand secret threads. Since she was unskilled in strolling about aimlessly and needed a goal, she listened to the voice of her newly awakened love, and took the accustomed route to Alte Jakobstrasse. On the way she shudderingly avoided two old beaux and a fresh clerk. The latticed gates of the famous marble-columned portal cried an iron "Halt!" She stood a long time pressed up against her old door on the opposite side of the street, and stared at the house to which fate had anchored her. Lights were burning in his mother's room. The two gas jets of the chandelier resembled her cold, clear eyes. The rest of the jets were not turned on, probably from motives of economy. Of the factory nothing was to be seen save the dark top of the chimney towering above the roof of the house in front. A sorry greeting. Nevertheless a greeting. She would have liked to say "How do you do?" to the beloved staircase also. But she no longer dared to cross the street. Then, as if after a good deed accomplished, she turned homeward feeling at ease. She repeated the visit three times in the course of the week. She began to feel that the aimless journeys were a life necessity. Once, just as she was disposing herself comfortably in her protecting doorway, an elegant slim gentleman, who evidently had come the same way behind her, stopped and raised his hat. Dr. Salmoni. Lilly in her fright nearly forgot to return his greeting. If he were to betray her to Richard! Richard would assume that jealousy, or even worse, had driven her there. "Well, well," began Dr. Salmoni, complacently rolling the words in his mouth. "It strikes me as somewhat touching that we should meet directly opposite Liebert & Dehnicke. As you know, I'm a gentle nature, a soul in socks, as it were. So I refrain from asking you what stirrings of your heart prompted you to come here. You know the fairy-tale of the queen who sallied forth to find her king, and ended in finding a swineherd. Thus a pearl may stray into a bronze ware factory. I should not have permitted myself to follow you intentionally. I was seduced by a certain play of lines and curves. Perhaps a certain suspicion of brilliance shone through--but a young pheasant should not be shot out of season. Let your fruit ripen, is a very sound motto, and not only with respect to _soi-disant_ love. But it's questionable whether mottoes are worth the while. They smack of respectability, and respectability smacks of Virginia tobacco, and Virginia tobacco smells, and is celebrated far and wide _because_ it smells. Do you get my profound meaning?"