I had not been waiting; she was on the way before me.

"Have you slept well?" I asked. I hardly knew what to say.

"No, I haven't. I have been awake," she answered. And she told me she
had not slept that night, but had sat in a chair with her eyes closed.
And she had been out of the house for a little walk.

"Someone was outside my hut last night," I said. "I saw tracks in the
grass this morning."

And her face colored; she took my hand there, on the road, and made no
answer. I looked at her, and said:

"Was it you, I wonder?"

"Yes," she answered, pressing close to me. "It was I. I hope I didn't
wake you--I stepped as quietly as I could. Yes, it was I. I was near you
again. I am fond of you!"



XII


Every day, every day I met her. I will tell the truth: I was glad to
meet her; aye, my heart flew. It is two years ago this year; now, I
think of it only when I please, the whole story just amuses and
distracts me. And as for the two green feathers, I will tell about them
in good time.