White Nights - VI

“I am glad! I am glad! But tell me how did you find out that I was the sort of woman with whom . . . well, whom you think worthy . . . of attention and friendship . . . in fact, not a landlady as you say? What made you decide to come up to me?”

“What made me? . . . But you were alone; that gentleman was too insolent; it’s night. You must admit that it was a duty. . . . ”

“No, no; I mean before, on the other side — you know you meant to come up to me.”

“On the other side? Really I don’t know how to answer; I am afraid to.

. . . Do you know I have been happy to-day? I walked along singing; I went out into the country; I have never had such happy moments. You . . .

Perhaps it was my fancy. . . . Forgive me for referring to it; I fancied you were crying, and I . . . could not bear to hear it . . . it made my heart ache.

. . . Oh, my goodness! Surely I might be troubled about you? Surely there was no harm in feeling brotherly compassion for you. . . . I beg your pardon, I said compassion. . . . Well, in short, surely you would not be offended at my involuntary impulse to go up to you? . . . ”

“Stop, that’s enough, don’t talk of it,” said the girl, looking down, and pressing my hand. “It’s my fault for having spoken of it; but I am glad I was not mistaken in you. . . . But here I am home; I must go down this turning, it’s two steps from here. . . . Good-bye, thank you! . . . ”

“Surely . . . surely you don’t mean . . . that we shall never see each other again? . . . Surely this is not to be the end?”

“You see,” said the girl, laughing, “at first you only wanted two words, and now. . . . However, I won’t say anything . . . perhaps we shall meet. . . . ”

“I shall come here to-morrow,” I said. “Oh, forgive me, I am already making demands. . . . ”

“Yes, you are not very patient . . . you are almost insisting.”

“Listen, listen!” I interrupted her. “Forgive me if I tell you something else. . . . I tell you what, I can’t help coming here to-morrow, I am a dreamer; I have so little real life that I look upon such moments as this now, as so rare, that I cannot help going over such moments again in my dreams. I shall be dreaming of you all night, a whole week, a whole year. I shall certainly come here to-morrow, just here to this place, just at the same hour, and I shall be happy remembering to-day. This place is dear to me already. I have already two or three such places in Petersburg. I once shed tears over memories . . . like you. . . . Who knows, perhaps you were weeping ten minutes ago over some memory. . . . But, forgive me, I have forgotten myself again; perhaps you have once been particularly happy here. . . . ”

TO BE CONTINUED...