the wall-paper, which was not so easily found in the lamplight, so that I might prevent the bad omen which might have been in that fancy, when I took leave of Minna: "Perhaps you never will see this spot again." If I had neglected to look at it, that omen might still be in power! I was in these days as superstitious as an old witch, because only my sphere existed, and everything was bound to have a meaning for it.
Mrs. Jagemann sat in her chair, dozing with open eyes; she understood nothing of the feelings which stirred us, but murmured mechanically—
"Sweetly pretty—oh dear me, yes, that's talent and no mistake."
We still kept on talking for a quarter of an hour about indifferent things—in order to postpone the moment of parting. At last we tore ourselves away.
Minna lighted us out to the stairs. The front door was still open.
I let him step out first. He turned, and lifting his hat, held his right hand towards me.
"You said yesterday evening, Mr. Fenger, that we parted as enemies. Just look, now we have spent quite a friendly evening together. In reality, we cannot hate one another; for whichever of us is going to be the favoured one the other is bound to wish him happiness—for her sake."
"You are right, Mr. Stephensen. But our paths lie in different directions. Farewell!"
We parted.
It had stopped raining. Between the ragged clouds a star sparkled here and there over the shiny roofs. The wet stones and the pavements shone for a long distance with a deserted and sad light.
