seemed as though one of her friends must have told her about it. It was
only when it recurred with ever-increasing frequency that she realized
that she herself had experienced it before.

She shuddered, with a feeling as though she were waking from sleep. She
opened her eyes.

It seemed to her that the air was all a-whirl; the shadows had crept
halfway across the road; away up on the hilltop the cemetery wall no
longer gleamed in the sunlight. Bertha rapidly shook her head to and fro
a few times as though to waken herself thoroughly. It seemed to her as if
a whole day and a whole night had elapsed since she had sat down on the
bench. How was it, then, that in her consciousness time passed in so
disjointed a fashion? She looked around her. Where could Fritz have gone
to? Oh, there he was behind her, playing with Doctor Friedrich's
children. The nursemaid was on her knees beside them, helping them to
build a castle with the sand.

The avenue was now less deserted than it had been earlier in the evening.
Bertha knew almost all the people who passed; she saw them every day. As,
however, most of them were not people to whom she was in the habit of
talking, they flitted by like shadows. Yonder came the saddler, Peter
Nowak, and his wife; Doctor Rellinger drove by in his little country trap
and bowed to her as he passed; he was followed by the two daughters of
Herr Wendelein, the landowner; presently Lieutenant Baier and his
_fiancee_ cycled slowly down the road on their way to the country. Then,
again, there seemed to be a short lull in the movement before her and
Bertha heard nothing but the laughter of the children as they played.

Then, again, she saw that some one was slowly approaching from the town,