When I arrived at Dresden, I could not make up my mind to leave the Bohemian station. I had a suspicion that both or one of them would return from Pirna.
The evening train rolled in, and I saw Stephensen's face at a carriage window. He stepped out—alone. I rushed towards him.
"Where is Minna?"
Stephensen regarded me coldly, as if he would beg to be excused from intrusive questions. But he changed his mind.
"You are right, Mr. Fenger, you ought to know it. She is at Sonnenstein."
"Sonnenstein!" I murmured, as if I did not understand. Then I was seized with giddiness, and the commotion of passengers and porters on the half-dark platform made me feel ill. "Sonnenstein! What does it mean?" I caught hold of his overcoat, partly to steady myself, partly to prevent him from getting away. "You don't mean to say that she—that Minna"
"Well, don't take it so pathetically!" Stephensen said with a semblance of kindness. "She is not exactly weak-minded or really insane, only very melancholy and a little hysterical. You have seen for yourself. In short, it was the best thing to put her under the treatment of a doctor. What is there in that? In our nervous times, it is nothing unusual.… She preferred Sonnenstein, because her
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