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 He looked as if he wanted to bite my head off, but did not answer. We had reached the park, and at the corner of the Boulevard I stopped.

'I must go home now, Mr. Morch. I wonder if you would be kind enough to answer my question.'

'Only on one condition.'

'And what is that?'

'That you show me your face and tell me your name.'

'But why? What pleasure can that possibly be to you?'

'Do you really think my request so unreasonable. Allow me?' and he stretched out his hand to lift my veil.

'No, no, you must not do that,' and I hurried along the path. He followed me. Neither of us spoke. At last, when we were again walking quickly side by side, I said, 'How lovely the park is with all the snow-powdered trees. It looks like a fairy-tale garden.'

'Oh, yes.'

Snow-powder, fairy-tale garden, and all other poetical things had evidently not the slightest interest for him, and I thought: the situation is getting impossible, he is just as stupid and irritating as Erik.

Then suddenly he stopped and said, 'Well, good- bye, and many thanks for to-night.'

'And after all, you won't fulfil my wish?'

He planted himself straight in front of me and