Then she looked at him and suddenly came towards him again. She walked quickly, as though she had plucked up courage, and when she spoke her breath came with difficulty. She smiled nervously. "Good afternoon. I'm so glad to meet you." Heavens, what a struggle there was in his heart; it wasn't beating, it shivered. He tried to say something but didn't succeed, only his lips moved. A fragrance issued from her clothes, her yellow dress, or perhaps it was from her mouth. At that moment he had no clear impression of her face; but he recognized her fine shoulders and her long, slender hand on the handle of her parasol. It was her right hand. There was a ring on it. For the first few seconds he did not reflect upon this and had no feeling of disaster. But her hand was wonderfully beautiful. "I've been a whole week in town," she went on; "but I haven't seen you. Oh yes, I saw you once in the street; somebody told me it was you. You've grown so much." He muttered: "I knew you were in town. Are you staying long?" "A few days. No, not long. I'm going home again." "Thank you for stopping to talk to me," said he. Pause. "Oh, by the bye, I've lost my way," she said again. "I'm staying at the Chamberlain's; how do I get there from here?" "I'll take you there if you'll let me." They began to walk. "Is Otto at home?" he asked for the sake of saying something. "Yes, he's at home," she answered shortly. Some men came out of a doorway carrying a piano between them and barring the pavement. Victoria turned off to the left, leaning her whole side against her companion. Johannes looked at her. "I beg your pardon," she said. A voluptuous feeling swept through him at the contact; for an instant her breath came straight against his cheek. "I see you're wearing a ring," he said. And he smiled and put on an air of indifference. "Perhaps I am to congratulate you?" What would she answer? He did not look at her, but held his breath. "And you?" she answered, "haven't you a ring? No? I'm sure somebody told me.... One hears so much about you nowadays, your name is in the papers." "It's some poems I have written," he answered. "But you won't have seen them." "Wasn't it a whole book? I thought...." "Yes, there was a little book too." They came to a square, she was in no hurry though she had to go to the Chamberlain's; she sat down on a seat. He stood in front of her. Then she suddenly put out her hand to him and said: "Sit down too." And only when he had sat down did she release his hand. Now or never! he thought. He made another attempt to assume a light and indifferent tone, he smiled, looked up into the air. Good. "So then you're engaged and won't even tell me. And I'm your neighbor at home." She thought a moment. "That was not exactly what I wanted to talk to you about today," she answered. He at once became serious and said in a low voice: "Well well, I dare say I know all about it." Pause. He began again: