I shrank into myself, bent my head involuntarily, and said:
"May I not meet you any more then?"
I had no hope of being permitted to see her again. I almost wished for a
sharp No, that would pull me together a bit and render me callous.
"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, bewilderingly
swiftly, right on the mouth. I could feel how her bosom heaved; she was
breathing violently. She wrenched herself suddenly out of my clasp, called
a good-night, breathlessly, whispering, and turned and ran up the stairs
without a word more.
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