“At his being fickle to you.”
“No; we are above such things,” she replied, shugging her shoulders. “Oh, you know—they are all stupid boys in comparison with you!”
He felt quite frightened at the idea of calling a student a stupid boy, and, above all, in comparison with him.
“My brother is no stupid boy,” he retorted.
“I don’t know your brother,” she said, with philosophic calmness; “perhaps he is not. Oh, I have grown ever so much older,” she went on. “I took literature lessons, and from that I learned many beautiful things.”
Tormenting envy awoke in him.
“Do pick up that book.”
He did so.
“Do you know that?”
In gold letters he read on the red cover the words, “Heine’s Buch der Lieder” (Heine’s Book of Songs), and shook his head sadly.