Does she love me? I thought, as I came to the Rhine, whose waves rolled swiftly by.
Does she love me? I asked myself when I awoke the next morning. I did not wish to look into my own heart. I felt that her image—the image of the "girl with the bold laugh"—had impressed itself upon my soul, and that I could not easily get rid of it. I went to L—— and remained there the whole day; but I had only one glimpse of Assja. She was not well; her head ached. She came down stairs for a few moments with her head bound up, her eyes half closed, pale and weak; she smiled feebly, said, "It will pass; it is nothing; everything passes, does it not?" and went away. I was depressed and had a painful sense of blankness, but I would not go home till very late, without, however, seeing her again.
I spent the next day like a man walking in his sleep. I tried to work, but could not; then I tried to be absolutely idle, and to think of nothing; but neither did that succeed. I strolled about the town, returned home, and went out again.
"Are you Mr. N.?" said suddenly the voice of a child behind me. I turned. A little boy was standing before me. "From Miss Annette," and handed me a note.
I opened it, and recognized Assja's irregular and scrawling handwriting. "I must see you," she wrote. "Come to-day at four o'clock to the stone chapel on the way to the ruins. Something unexpected has happened. For heaven's sake, come. You shall know everything. Say to the bearer, 'yes.'"
"Any answer?" the boy asked me.
"Say 'yes,'" I replied. The boy ran off.
When I had reached my room I sat down and fell into deep thought. My heart beat forcibly. I read Assja's note several times over. I looked at the clock; it was not yet midday.