Page:Karl Gjellerup - Minna, A novel - 1913.djvu/307

 "Where?" I asked at once, for my heart was beating furiously.

"Perhaps you remember a little street—Seilergasse."

"Seilergasse!" I repeated, and stared at him.

He smiled.

"Perhaps you also lived there? What a funny coincidence!"

"No, I did not exactly live there, but I went there very often. I knew a family there."

"I see! Well, well.… In these little streets everybody knows one another. Perhaps you have by chance heard about the people with whom I lodged; the landlord was a teacher at a public school."

"Jagemann?" I exclaimed.

The musician just raised a full glass to his lips, and spilt it so that the golden drops ran down the lapel of his coat.

"Yes, it was with them I lived," he said, and wiped himself carefully.

I now knew who my companion was. It was her first, half-childish love, the musician to whom Stephensen had seen her give the farewell kiss.

"And it was those people I used to visit," I said; "at least—Jagemann was dead—it was madam and the daughter I went to see."

"Minna—she was a lovely girl!"

We both stared down our glasses, as if we, with Heine, saw everything there—

"Do you know if she—Minna Jagemann—whether she since has got married?" he asked at last.

I told him that she had married a Danish painter, made