led, but he went more from mere instinct and merely because he was a portion of that multitude which carried garlands.
He saw but little of her abode, but enough to see that it was rich and costly. In the front hall the young men laid down the garlands and then went away: Venik did so, too—laid his garland down and departed.
When he reached the street, a procession approached with torches and halted before the mansion. Singers sang and Krista came out into the open air on to the balcony, and thanked them all quite composedly and quite impartially: she paid him his due also and he accepted it. He heard her speak and when she opened her lips he seemed as though only now he saw and heard her, for in the theatre she merely sang.
Then all the pageant began to disperse in different directions, and Venik was in the street before Krista’s house alone. And when he was alone he ceased to be a member of that multitude, became again a man, and was Venik.
He posted himself opposite the house, and his glance ranged over the illuminated windows. But, of course, he well knew which windows were hers, for he had a few moments previously laid a garland in the first floor.
And now he stood there, and looked and watched, to see whether he could hear any voice, and he heard many. There was a subdued hum of voices, perhaps there was a dinner-party or some sort of entertainment, and numerous pleasure seekers with her. He heard conversation and laughter, he saw lights, he heard the singing of divers voices, then he heard Krista also sing, and here he began to parley with himself. He would have gladly posted himself at the very window, if need be, in order to gain a clear view of everything; but it was impossible. So he drew on his imagination for what he could not see.
A gas-lamp was glaring near the window, and when the lamp-lighter came with a ladder to put out the lamp, he longed to ask to be allowed to mount the ladder himself. He could then have peered into the interior of the house and have seen whom she conversed with, and with whom she sang and laughed. But he felt himself frozen to the spot where he stood and could not stir.
Then he asked himself what he wanted there exactly, and whether he was in his right place there. It is hard to say, it is hard to answer. Rather let us philosophize on the very substance of spirit: we shall more easily answer the question what man is, than I can say whether Venik was here in his right place or not. He
