Page:Balkan Short Stories.djvu/98

86 I imagined right then a tiny rose satin slipper, and under it the neck of the professor in a none too dignified position. He went on:

“I want her to travel, to see people and the world, and to learn to form judgments according to my instructions. But—there she comes now!”

Not only I, but the rest of the passengers upon the upper deck—looked with pleasure at the extremely pretty young woman who was approaching. With envy in my voice I whispered to Walter:

“You are living neither a play nor an epic, but instead a love song.”

She was following her steamer rug which hung from the arm of a tall, handsome youth. In the youth there was that commingling of timidity and boldness which distinguishes the students of German universities. His face was smooth and fair as a girl's, and it showed an effort toward appearance of energy by a black court plaster upon the forehead, and the first shadow of down upon the upper lip. He was a youth who would be dangerout to women of a certain age.

Walter introduced me to his wife. A brief conversation convinced me that she was not one of