He could now see her delicate pure profile, and it seemed to him that
he had never seen anything like it, and had never known anything like
what he was feeling at that instant. His soul was on fire.

'And my promise!' flashed in among his thoughts.

'Fraeulein Gemma ...' he began after a momentary hesitation.

'What?'

She did not turn to him, she went on sorting the cherries, carefully
taking them by their stalks with her finger-tips, assiduously picking
out the leaves.... But what a confiding caress could be heard in that
one word,

'What?'

'Has your mother said nothing to you ... about ...'

'About?'

'About me?'

Gemma suddenly flung back into the basket the cherries she had taken.

'Has she been talking to you?' she asked in her turn.

'Yes.'

'What has she been saying to you?'