“His expressions may be ridiculous, but his feeling is not ridiculous, nor is what you have done to-day. And all that on my account … for me … I shall never forget it.”
“I assure you, Fräulein Gemma …”
“I shall never forget it,” she said deliberately; once more she looked intently at him, and turned away.
He could now see her delicate pure profile, and it seemed to him that he had never seen anything like it, and had never known anything like what he was feeling at that instant. His soul was on fire.
“And my promise!” flashed in among his thoughts.
“Fräulein Gemma …” he began after a momentary hesitation.
“What?”
She did not turn to him, she went on sorting the cherries, carefully taking them by their stalks with her finger-tips, assiduously picking out the leaves…. But what a confiding caress could be heard in that one word, “What?”
“Has your mother said nothing to you … about …”
“About?”