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- Part one
- VII
- VIII
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you to let me think of you, while you may sit and think of
anything in the world. Others may dance — to me this is
much better — if only I may look at you.”
They were both silent. Jenny sat with her face turned away,
looking at the Campagna bathing in the sun.
As they walked back to the osteria, Helge chatted merrily
about all sorts of things, telling her about the learned Germans
he had met in the course of his work. Jenny stole a glance
at him now and again; he used not to be like that, so free and
easy. He was really handsome as he walked, looking straight
ahead, and his light brown eyes were radiant like amber in the
sun.
VIII
Jenny did not light the lamp when she got in, but,
putting on an evening cloak in the dark, she went out to sit
on the balcony. The night was cold, the skies stretched
over the roofs like black velvet, covered with glittering stars.
He had said when they parted: “I may come up tomorrow and
ask you to go with me for a trip in the Campagna?”
Well, nothing had really happened — she had merely given
him a kiss, but it was the first kiss she had ever given to a
man, and it had not happened in the way she had expected.
It was almost a joke — kissing him like that. She was not in
love with him, yet she had kissed him. She had hesitated and
thought: I have never kissed, and then a strange sensation of
indifference and soft languor stole over her. Why be so
ridiculously solemn about it? — and she did it — why not? It
did not matter; he had asked for it quite candidly, because he
thought he was in love with her and the sun was bright. He
had not asked her to love him, and he had made no further
advances; he had not claimed anything, only that one little
kiss, and she had given it without a word. It was altogether
beautiful; she had done nothing to be ashamed of.
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Project Runeberg, Wed Dec 20 20:30:43 2023
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