Again she looked me straight in the eyes and nodded cordially.
I was even more confounded than the day before. But nevertheless I had
time to remark that she was very graceful and that she had fine and
noble features and long, aristocratic hands. Her eyes were bright and
had the clear lustre that I had seen in only one pair of eyes, and an
expression as though, together with me, they knew innumerable,
unutterable secrets.
My Hungarian comrade now again saw my agitation and, moreover, the
cause of it.
"Oh! was it she that you saw yesterday?" he cried out in French when
the girl had passed. "Then I comprehend your dumbfoundedness."
"Do you know her?" I asked.
"Certainly, she is one of the sights of the town. All the strangers
know her."
"Is this her home?"
"Of course! and not to the loss of the hotel-keeper. She's his daughter
or his adopted daughter. But not interesting to me, because notoriously
unapproachable."
"What's her name?"
"Elsie - Elsie van Vianen, or Elsje as they say here.
Pages:
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307