Tora both felt and saw this, but to-day it was with more curiosity than fear.
"What an unexpected pleasure to meet you here; have you been here long?"
"I came here yesterday evening with Fru Gröndal; she was in the town."
"Was she, indeed?"
And the two slipped into a conversation about the journey here, the weather, the place, without having been introduced to each other--a conversation without any other object than to have an excuse for looking at one another. The conversation was in short, disjointed sentences, without colour or calculation, except in so far that the last remark never remained the last.
He stood below and studied her with growing pleasure; the shape of her head, her features, her manners and expression. The eyes really shone under the long thick lashes--what colour were they? They looked black, but---- And her figure! her neck, arms, complexion, her dark hair, her dress; he put himself quite on one side, he was entirely occupied with her. How long this continued, they neither of them knew--it was a considerable time; he did not wish to disturb himself, she did not wish to disturb him. She saw herself in a living mirror, but the pleasure was not an innocent one, for by degrees it made her feel giddy. She collected herself and broke off the conversation; walked across the terrace to some flowers, and occupied herself with their petals, among which she made havoc. He came slowly up, with his umbrella over his shoulder, drawing his left hand along the balustrade.
"Of course you are going to my sister's this afternoon?"
"Fru Gröndal will get an invitation for me," she said.
"Of course; we shall have some dancing--will you give me the first waltz?"
She did not look up. "Will you not dance the first waltz with me?"