"Of course she'll make a book out of it," said Anna. "But mind you don't tell any one, not even your friend Bermann."
"Shouldn't think of it! But I say, Anna, hadn't you better get something ready for this evening?"
She nodded. "Come, take me downstairs. I'll see what there is and consult Marie too ... so far as is possible to do so."
They got up. The shadows had lengthened. The children were making a noise in the next garden. Anna took her lover's arm and walked slowly with him. She told him the newest instances of the fantastic stupidity of the maid.
The idea of my being a husband, thought George, and listened reflectively. When they got to the house he announced his intention of going to meet Heinrich, left Anna and went into the street.
At this precise moment a one-horse carriage jogged up. Heinrich got out and paid the driver. "Hallo!" he said to George, "have you really waited for me after all? It's not so late then?"
"Not at all. You're very punctual. We'll go for a short walk if it suits you."
"Delighted."
They walked on into the forest past the yellow inn with the red terraces.
"It is wonderful here," said Heinrich, "and your villa too looks awfully nice. Why don't you live out here?"