"Yes," she whispered softly, almost inaudibly.
"When?"
"I don't know."
A pause. . . .
"Won't you be so kind as to lift your veil, only just for a minute," I asked. "So that I can see whom I have been talking to. Just for one moment, for indeed I must see whom I have been talking to."
Another pause. . . .
"You can meet me outside here on Tuesday evening," she said. "Will you?"
"Yes, dear lady, if I have permission to."
"At eight o'clock."
"Very well."
I stroked down her cloak with my hand, merely to have an excuse for touching her. It was a delight to me to be so near her.
"And you mustn't think all too badly of me," she added; she was smiling again.
"No."
Suddenly she made a resolute movement and drew her veil up over her forehead; we stood and gazed at one another for a second.
"Ylajali!" I cried. She stretched herself up, flung her arms round my neck and kissed me right on the mouth—only once, swiftly,
