She was outside now, in the road. She had become afraid of the loneliness of her room and of herself, a loneliness which in other ways had become so dear to her. Now she was seeking something more than spaciousness of air and forest; but the road, in which a few people were walking, made her keep herself under control. She turned down a side-path, went through the Woods. Here again there were people taking their morning stroll.... Suddenly, she gave a violent start: she saw Brauws, sitting on a bench. She felt as if she would faint; and, without knowing what she was doing, she turned round and walked back.... By this time, she had lost all her self-command. He had seen her, however, and his hand had already gone up to his hat. Suddenly, she heard his step behind her; he came up with her:
“Is this how you run away from your friends?” he said, making an attempt to joke, but in obvious astonishment.
She looked at him; and he was struck with her confusion.
“Don’t be angry,” she said, frankly, “but I was startled at seeing you.”
“I was not welcome,” he said, roughly. “Forgive me, mevrouw. I ought not to have come after you. But I’m a tactless beggar in these matters. I am not one of your society-men.”
“Don’t be angry,” she repeated, almost entreatingly. “Society indeed! I certainly showed myself no society-woman ... to ... unexpectedly to....”
She did not know what she wanted to say.
“To turn your back on me,” he said, completing the sentence.
“To turn my back on you,” she repeated.
“Well, now that I have said good-morning....”