for ever been standing behind the counter and dealing in orangeade
and sweetmeats, with that exquisite creature looking at him through
the doorway with affectionately mocking eyes, while the summer sun,
forcing its way through the sturdy leafage of the chestnuts that grew
in front of the windows, filled the whole room with the greenish-gold
of the midday light and shade, and the heart grew soft in the sweet
languor of idleness, carelessness, and youth--first youth!

A fourth customer asked for a cup of coffee; Pantaleone had to be
appealed to. (Emil had not yet come back from Herr Klueber's shop.)
Sanin went and sat by Gemma again. Frau Lenore still went on sleeping,
to her daughter's great delight. 'Mamma always sleeps off her sick
headaches,' she observed. Sanin began talking--in a whisper, of
course, as before--of his minding the shop; very seriously inquired
the price of various articles of confectionery; Gemma just as
seriously told him these prices, and meanwhile both of them were
inwardly laughing together, as though conscious they were playing
in a very amusing farce. All of a sudden, an organ-grinder in the
street began playing an air from the Freischuetz: '_Durch die Felder,
durch die Auen_ ...' The dance tune fell shrill and quivering on
the motionless air. Gemma started ... 'He will wake mamma!' Sanin
promptly darted out into the street, thrust a few kreutzers into
the organ-grinder's hand, and made him cease playing and move away.
When he came back, Gemma thanked him with a little nod of the head,
and with a pensive smile she began herself just audibly humming
the beautiful melody of Weber's, in which Max expresses all the
perplexities of first love. Then she asked Sanin whether he knew
'Freischuetz,' whether he was fond of Weber, and added that though
she was herself an Italian, she liked _such_ music best of all. From
Weber the conversation glided off on to poetry and romanticism, on to