There was to be a concert that evening at the Conservatorium, and, through vestibule and entrance-halls, which, for this reason, were unusually crowded, the young men made a kind of triumphal progress. Especially Schilsky. Not a girl, young or old, but peddled for a word or a look from him; and he was only too prodigal of insolently expressive glances, whispered greetings, and warm pressures of the hand. The open flattery and bold adoration of which he was the object mounted to his head; he felt secure in his freedom, and brimful of selfconfidence; and, as the three of them walked back to the town, his exhilaration, a sheer excess of well-being, was no longer to be kept within decent bounds.
"Wait!" he cried suddenly as they were passing the Gewandhaus. "Wait a minute! See me make that woman there take a fit."
He ran across the road to the opposite pavement, where the only person in sight, a stout, middle-aged woman, was dragging slowly along, her arms full of parcels; and, planting himself directly in front of her, so that she was forced to stop, he seized both her hands and worked them up and down.
"Now upon my soul, who would have thought of seeing you here, you baggage, you?" he cried vociferously.
The woman was speechless from amazement; her packages fell to the ground, and she gazed open-mouthed at the wild-haired lad before her, making, at the same time, vain attempts to free her hands.
"No, this really is luck," he went on, holding her fast. "Come, a kiss, my duck, just one! EIN KUSSCHEN IN EHREN, you know——" and, in very fact, he leaned forward and pecked at her cheek.
The blood dyed her face and she panted with rage.
"You young scoundrel!" she gasped. "You impertinent young dog! I'll give you in charge. I'll—I'll report you to the police. Let me go this instant—this very instant, do you hear?—or I'll scream for help."
The other two had come over to enjoy the fun. Schilsky turned to them with a comical air of dismay, and waved his arm. "Well I declare, if I haven't been and made a mistake!" he exclaimed, and slapped his forehead. "I'm out by I don't know how much—by twenty years, at least. No thank you, Madam, keep your kisses! You're much too old and ugly for me."
He flourished his big hat in her face, pirouetted on his heel, and the three of them went down the street, hallooing with laughter.