and with the sinking feeling that follows a too early rising, I had to go without food for over an hour.
At last I found a café that was being aired and cleaned. I sat down in a corner, and the waiter, who had formed his own opinion of my requirements, proposed "a soda water."
"Coffee," I ordered peremptorily.
But the fire was not yet lighted, so I had to wait. I had a real, though not pleasant, sensation of travelling, with remembrances of hotels and the rush to catch early trains. To travel, away from here!… It was just what Minna had wanted yesterday evening. Then I had persuaded her against it,—but now what would not I have given for us to have already started, for her to be sitting with me, and for the cab to be ordered for the early train? Where should we go? Anywhere, only away!
But it was impossible now, even if I had money. Stephensen had, with his frankness, really succeeded in paralysing me; and very likely that had been his intention, though he had not suspected that we had been thinking of going away secretly. It was not so much that my pride prevented me from flying, though the idea that Stephensen, with some reason, might complain of my action, was revolting to me; worse than this was the fear that I should for ever have the feeling of having gained my best treasure in a deceitful manner; and still worse, the possibility that I might even be guilty of injustice towards her. For my part this flight could only have meaning under the supposition that Minna, after grave consideration, would have preferred Stephensen. But what right had I to prevent such a decision, even if I did so with her consent?
And suppose it proved to be a hasty step; suppose that later on she discovered that she had mistaken her feelings, how bitter would not that repentance be which came too
