“Willingly,” he answered, and detached his watch from the chain.
“An uncomfortable fellow,” he heard one of the young gentlemen say low to his neighbor. It was he who had first called up that nickname.
Then it was Leo’s turn, who treated them to one of his most racy anecdotes, but the gayety would not come back again.
The rain splashed against the window panes with a hollow sound, the shadow of black clouds filled the room. It was as if the gray Dame was gliding through the air and touching the laughing young faces with her wings, so that they looked serious and old.
Only when Elsbeth opened the piano and began a merry dance the frozen gayety recommenced.
Paul stood in a corner and gazed at the merrymaking. They left him quite to himself, only now and then a shy glance met him.
The twins were flying round the room, their curls were loose, and a wild light sparkled in their eyes.
“Let them romp about,” thought Paul, “they must return to misery soon enough.” But that there was no misery for them never occurred to him.
When Elsbeth was replaced at the piano by somebody else, she came towards him and said, “You are very much bored, are you not?”
“Oh no,” he said. “Everything is still so new to me.”