“Cordt.”
She sat down without knowing what she was doing. He looked at her and she looked back at him. She could not help thinking how tall he was; and how easily he wore his clothes; and that one of his shoulders was a little lower than the other.
Then he crossed the room, so quickly that he nearly tripped over the carpet. He struggled with the old spinning-wheel and pulled it over the floor. She followed him with her eyes.
“Can you spin on my great-grandmother’s wheel, Adelheid?” he asked.
She crossed her arms on her breast and looked at him.
“Can’t you, Adelheid? Couldn’t you learn? Not if I begged you to?”
He pulled the spinning-wheel right in front of her and placed it as if she were to use it then and there. Then he sat down in his chair again.
“Don’t you think you could, Adelheid?”
They looked hard at each other. Then they became timid and shy and dropped their eyes.
They both thought of holding out their hands, but neither could see the other’s. They longed to throw themselves into each other’s arms, but they sat as stiff as statues. Their lips trembled; but they did not look at each other and neither knew anything of the other’s thought.