“Is he interesting?” he asked; “yes?”
“It was the Englischergarten that was wonderful,” she told him. “We rode very early in the morning and the dew was on the grass and we could hear the pheasants in the underbrush when the noise of the horses’ feet frightened them further away.”
“And the lieutenant?” he asked.
“And oh,” she continued, “you know that place where the woods open so widely, and you can see so far across,—eh bien, we saw one morning the deer standing in the edge of the forest just there, one would have said fifty miles from civilization, not at all as if they were in the midst of Munich.”
“And the lieutenant?” he repeated.
“And then another day the clouds of morning mist were so thick that we could see their outlines as they lay upon the earth, and ride into them and ride out of them,—a quite new experience for me.”
“But the lieutenant?” he exclaimed impatiently, “the lieutenant? what did he talk of? what did you speak together of?”
Rosina laughed, nodding merrily over his impatience.
“We talked of the pheasants,” she said, “of the deer, of the fog. Are you satisfied?”
He shrugged his shoulders, his frown lifted.