tell lies and deceive you like that?… Don't you think that it was at all wrong? "
I made some kind of explanation, but she continued rapidly—
"And the good old Hertz who was so troubled, evidently he felt the responsibility of having drawn us into the adventure. I also forgot that I, without permission, must make use of your purse, and that perhaps you had not money enough, and might be put into a most awkward position. All this was very wrong. But the worst of all was, when you yourself began to talk about the fortunate mistake and I had not the courage to confess, but continued telling lies to my own dear friend. Then I was quite disgusted with myself."
"But why did you not dare 'to confess,' as you call it?"
"At that time I could not possibly dare to do so, but now I cannot do anything else. Though I had really made up my mind never to tell, or at any rate not until much, much later.… Oh, perhaps you cannot understand it at all! But isn't it true that we enjoyed being alone together—for so far we really had not been able to speak in private—more than being ferried in a boat filled with people, and stuffed into a nasty train. That train is always overcrowded, horrid, you know! And then"—her voice sank to a whisper, and she rested her face on my knees—"was it not also a little—just a little—sweet to be so near to each other in the night?"
I bent over her.
"And when you tapped the wall."
"Hush!" she exclaimed, putting her forefinger to her lips, and looking at me with a queer and somewhat terrified face. But suddenly her expression became almost sulky.
