own flighty youth. Sometimes, when she thought that I was not noticing, she looked at me critically, as if she was thinking, "What kind of fellow is this that Minna has now got hold of?" Then if I looked at her she put her glass to her lips so quickly that she spilt drops of beer down her black shawl, which showed signs of having been dyed.
When we left, I wanted to take her home, but on no account would she allow me to go out of my way; and, when I insisted, she told me that she had some shopping to do. She disappeared down the first dark turning, not, however, before I had given the promise, or the threat—I do not know which she considered it—to visit her the next day.
I went straight from the Polytechnic to her flat.
When I rang for the second time I noticed that in a window, which opened on to the stairs, a dirty little curtain moved slightly in one corner, and from the darkness behind, an eye peeped out at me, after which the curtain fell back in its place. Having waited for some time I heard shuffling footsteps, and at last the door was opened by Mrs. Jagemann, who, had I been the tax-collector, could not have looked more alarmed. I was on the point of asking her why in the world she was so frightened, when it struck me that very likely I myself was the cause of the trouble. She seemed to have forgotten that I was going to call, or she had regarded what I had said as merely an empty form of politeness. The dyed black shawl, which I had seen on the previous evening, enveloped her and seemed to be thrown over her chemise, while her skirt bore a marked resemblance to a petticoat. She took me to the sitting-room with many apologies, and then disappeared for half an hour, "so that she could offer me a cup of coffee."
The rather small room, facing the garden square which I
