“You would not let me write to you; will you not let me see you once again? I will ask for you at the hotel at five to-morrow afternoon.”
Should I have fixed an earlier hour? But the light in the forenoon was so white; if I felt moved and my mouth twitched, I should look a dreadful sight.
I took the letter round myself to the hotel, and went home again.
A long night—oh, how long were those hours! Now, when I ought to sleep and stretch myself and feel refreshed, I could not. Day dawned, and I got up. After a long ramble through the streets I came back home again, and slept.
Hours pass. When I awake and come to my senses, I hurry anxiously to the telephone to ask if Fruen had left.
No, Fruen had not left.
Thank Heaven then, it seemed she did not wish to run away from me; she must have had my letter long since. No; I had called at an awkward hour the evening before, that was all.
I had something to eat, lay down, and slept again. When I woke it was past noon. I stumble in to the telephone again and ring up as before.
No, Fruen had not left yet. But her things were packed. She was out just now.
I got ready at once, and hurried round to Raadhusgaten to stand on watch. In the course of half an hour I saw a number of people pass in and out, not the one I sought. It was five o'clock now, and I went in and spoke to the porter.