Caro had seated himself on the edge of the trench, staring with pricked-up ears at the beetles in the water, and evidently thinking of nothing at all; Hans sat with his left elbow propped on his knee, blowing thick clouds from his cigar, also staring into the trench, and apparently thinking of nothing also. I felt sadder and sadder. The contrast between the active life I had just been picturing to myself, and the melancholy of this stagnant, purposeless existence, was too great.
"Suppose we go," I said, suddenly rising.
"Very well," said Hans, slowly following my example.
Not much was said between us as we crossed the heath, until we reached the point where the path to Zehrendorf branched off near Trantowitz whose buildings looked forlorner and more dilapidated than ever.
"So you are going to live here always," said Hans, as we were about to separate.
"Always?" I said. "How came you to think that?"
"I?" he said, in evident surprise that I should suspect him of originating any idea--"I did not think it: Fräulein Duff told me so."
"And did she tell you why I was to stay here always?"
"Of course; and I wish you joy with all my heart."
"Wish me joy of what?" I asked, taking with some hesitation his offered hand.