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The Torrents Of Spring

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you… .’ And Frau Lenore half rose from her seat as though about to fall<br />

at Sanin’s feet… . He restrained her.<br />

‘Frau Lenore! For mercy’s sake! What are you doing?’<br />

She clutched his hand impulsively. ‘You promise … ’<br />

‘Frau Lenore, think a moment; what right have I … ’<br />

‘You promise? You don’t want me to die here at once before your<br />

eyes?’<br />

Sanin was utterly nonplussed. It was the first time in his life he had<br />

had to deal with any one of ardent Italian blood.<br />

‘I will do whatever you like,’ he cried. ‘I will talk to Fräulein Gemma…<br />

.’<br />

Frau Lenore uttered a cry of delight.<br />

‘Only I really can’t say what result will come of it … ’<br />

‘Ah, don’t go back, don’t go back from your words!’ cried Frau Lenore<br />

in an imploring voice; ‘you have already consented! <strong>The</strong> result is certain<br />

to be excellent. Any way, I can do nothing more! She won’t listen to me!’<br />

‘Has she so positively stated her disinclination to marry Herr Klüber?’<br />

Sanin inquired after a short silence.<br />

‘As if she’d cut the knot with a knife! She’s her father all over, Giovanni<br />

Battista! Wilful girl!’<br />

‘Wilful? Is she!’ … Sanin said slowly. ‘Yes … yes … but she’s an angel<br />

too. She will mind you. Are you coming soon? Oh, my dear Russian<br />

friend!’ Frau Lenore rose impulsively from her chair, and as impulsively<br />

clasped the head of Sanin, who was sitting opposite her. ‘Accept a mother’s<br />

blessing – and give me some water!’<br />

Sanin brought Signora Roselli a glass of water, gave her his word of<br />

honour that he would come directly, escorted her down the stairs to the<br />

street, and when he was back in his own room, positively threw up his<br />

arms and opened his eyes wide in his amazement.<br />

‘Well,’ he thought, ‘well, now life is going round in a whirl! And it’s<br />

whirling so that I’m giddy.’ He did not attempt to look within, to realise<br />

what was going on in himself: it was all uproar and confusion, and that<br />

was all he knew! What a day it had been! His lips murmured unconsciously:<br />

‘Wilful … her mother says … and I have got to advise her …<br />

her! And advise her what?’<br />

Sanin, really, was giddy, and above all this whirl of shifting sensations<br />

and impressions and unfinished thoughts, there floated continually the<br />

image of Gemma, the image so ineffaceably impressed on his memory on<br />

that hot night, quivering with electricity, in that dark window, in the<br />

light of the swarming stars!<br />

59

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