Anne had no presentiment that she went to meet her own summer when one day she walked on the bank of the Danube towards the island. Christopher, who accompanied her, had, as usual, been late. The party they had arranged to join was nowhere to be found. They remained alone on the shore, deliberating for a short time, and then made signs to the ferryman. On the other shore a boat moved under the boughs which spread over the water and was rowed slowly across the river.
People from town came to the pier. Anne heard approaching voices. One person pronounced her name; another repeated it in astonishment.
“Anne Ulwing....”
She turned round reluctantly. Christopher raised his hat.
A boyish-looking slender girl came towards them along the grey pier.
“Don’t you recognise me?” she asked Anne. “Of course it is a long time since we met. Do you remember?”
Now she remembered: it was Martha Illey.
“The dancing lessons....”
These words set Anne’s eyebrows rigid and hard. Martha Illey turned quickly sideways: “Thomas!” and introduced her brother.
Anne saw a refined manly hand in the sun. It wore an old-fashioned seal ring with a green stone. She looked up, but the man’s face seemed quite strange to her. Then the recollection of her solitary meditations vibrated through her and scared her. She felt that she was blushing. Confusion passed over her countenance like a cloud. It was already gone. Her charming smile raised the corners of her mouth ironically.