"What is it, Edwarda?" I asked, and I could hear my blood beating; hear
it as it were from down in my throat, so that I could not speak
distinctly.

"Nothing," she answered. "Only--that I wanted to. It doesn't matter."

I took off my cap and brushed back my hair mechanically as I stood
looking at her. "Doesn't matter...?"

Herr Mack was saying something, a good way off; we could not hear his
words from where we were. But I was glad to think that Herr Mack had
seen nothing, that he knew nothing of this. It was well indeed that he
had been away from the party just then. I felt relieved at that, and I
stepped over to the others and said with a laugh, and seeming quite
indifferent:

"I would ask you all to forgive my unseemly behavior a moment ago; I am
myself extremely sorry about it. Edwarda kindly offered to change
flowers with me, and I forgot myself. I beg her pardon and yours. Put
yourself in my place; I live all alone, and am not accustomed to the
society of ladies; besides which, I have been drinking wine, and am not
used to that either. You must make allowances for that."

And I laughed, and showed great indifference to such a trifle, that it
might be forgotten; but, inwardly, I was serious. Moreover, what I had
said made no impression on Edwarda. She did not try to hide anything, to
smooth over the effect of her hasty action: on the contrary, she sat
down close to me and kept looking at me fixedly. Now and again she spoke
to me. And afterwards, when we were playing "_Enke_," she said: