Nanna glanced inquiringly towards Gottlieb.
"Do you not think it strange, Nanna, that we who have been acquainted but so short a season, should think so much of each other?"
"It is perfectly natural that we should. Persons in fashionable society cannot become so well acquainted with each other as we could in one hour. At first we met each other every evening, then every morning and evening, and at length—"
"And at length morning, noon and night!" interrupted Gottlieb, with a smile. "In truth, Nanna, you are right, for if our every meeting was so divided that we should be together but once each week, our acquaintance would have been prolonged for an entire year."
"O, much longer than that even," said Nanna, joining in Gottlieb's laugh.
"And as we have remained by our agreement not to fall in love with each other, we part as friends, and not in despair, and what is still better, not with reproaches, which, had the case been different, we would have been obliged to make and listen to."
"Yes, it is fortunate, very fortunate, that—that—" stammered Nanna, unable to finish the sentence.
"We need not conceal from ourselves that in making that arrangement we ran a great risk. For my part, I am not too proud to say that it has been very difficult for me to keep it."
"But Gottlieb," replied Nanna, "as you have kept it, it is better as it is."
"Certainly; but then it is not so good as I wish to have it."