Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Part I - I
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groceries mingled with the scent of the lilac. An easterly
wind blowing from the open sea, cooled by the drift ice
of the Baltic, freshened the atmosphere.
I forgot my books as soon as I turned my back to
them and was leaning out of the window, all my senses
taking a delicious bath; below, the guards were marching
past to the strains of the march from Faust. I was so
intoxicated with the music, the flags, the blue sky, the
flowers, that I had not noticed the porter entering my
office in the meantime with the mail. He touched my
shoulder, handed me a letter and disappeared.
Hm!... a letter from a lady.
I hastily opened the envelope, anticipating some
delightful adventure... surely it must be something of
that sort... it was!
“Meet me punctually at five o’clock this afternoon
before No. 65 Parliament Street. You will know me by
the roll of music in my hand.”
A short time ago a little vixen had made a fool of me,
and I had sworn to take advantage of the first favourable
opportunity to revenge myself. Therefore I was willing
enough. There was only one thing which jarred on me;
the commanding, dictatorial tone of the note offended my
manly dignity. How could this unknown correspondent
dare to attack me unawares in this manner? What were
they thinking of, these women, who have such a poor
opinion of us men? They do not ask, they command
their conquests!
As it happened I had planned an excursion with some
of my friends for this very afternoon. And, moreover,
the thought of a flirtation in the middle of the day in one
of the principal streets of the town was not very alluring.
At two o’clock, however, I went into the chemical
laboratory where the excursionists had arranged to
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