And I bent
toward her and said, while my heart hammered:
"Are you grieving for somebody, madam? Have you left a friend where
you come from--a very dear friend?"
"Yes," she answered, "a very dear friend."
"And now you sit here unable to forget this friend?" I asked.
And she answered and shook her head sadly:
"No, no--I can never forget him."
She was silent. She had not looked at me while she spoke.
"May I lift your braid?" I asked her. "What a lovely braid--how very
beautiful it is!"
"My friend has kissed it," she said, and pushed back my hand.
"Forgive me," I said then, and my heart pounded more and more. "May I
not look at your ring--it shines so golden and is also so very
beautiful. I should like to look at it and admire it for your sake."
But to this she also said no and added:
"My friend has given it to me."
Then she moved still further away from me.
"Please forgive me," I said....
Time passes, the train rolls on, the journey is so long, so long and
wearisome, there is nothing we can do except listen to the rumbling of
the wheels.
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