way. I overtake her again, pass her by, turn quickly round, and meet her face-to-face in order to be able to observe her well. I stand and gaze into her eyes, and hit, on the spur of the moment, on a name which I have never heard before a name with a gliding, nervous sound, Ylajali! When she is quite close to me I draw myself up and say impressively:
"You are losing your book, madam!" I could hear my heart beat audibly as I said it.
"My book?" she asks her companion, and she walks on.
My devilment waxed apace, and I followed them. At the same time, I was fully conscious that I was playing a mad prank without being able to stop myself. My disordered condition ran away with me; I was inspired with the craziest notions, which I followed blindly as they came to me. I couldn't help it, no matter how much I told myself that I was playing the fool. I made the most idiotic grimaces behind the lady's back, and coughed frantically as I passed her by. Walking on in this manner—very slowly, and always a few steps in advance—I felt her eyes on my back, and involuntarily put down my head