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They went together out of the garden and turned homewards, not by the streets of the town, but through the outskirts. Sanin walked along, at one time by Gemma's side, at another time a little behind her. He never took his eyes off her and never ceased smiling. She seemed to hasten ... seemed to linger.

Emil, Pantaleone, and the poodle Tartaglia accompanied him to the corner of the street. Pantaleone could not refrain from expressing his displeasure at Gemma's reading. 'She ought to be ashamed! She mouths and whines, una caricatura! She ought to represent Merope or Clytemnaestra something grand, tragic and she apes some wretched German woman!

But while Herr Klueber was settling up with the waiter, to whom, by way of punishment, he gave not a single kreutzer for himself, Sanin with rapid steps approached the table at which the officers were sitting, and addressing Gemma's assailant, who was at that instant offering her rose to his companions in turns to smell, he uttered very distinctly in French, 'What you have just done, sir, is conduct unworthy of an honest man, unworthy of the uniform you wear, and I have come to tell you you are an ill-bred cur! The young man leaped on to his feet, but another officer, rather older, checked him with a gesture, made him sit down, and turning to Sanin asked him also in French, 'Was he a relation, brother, or betrothed of the girl?

He embraced and kissed Frau Lenore, but he asked Gemma to follow him into her room for just a minute as he must tell her something of great importance. He simply wanted to say good-bye to her alone. Frau Lenore saw that, and felt no curiosity as to the matter of such great importance. Sanin had never been in Gemma's room before.

With just such a dinner the tavernkeeper at Soden regaled his customers. The dinner, itself, however, went off satisfactorily. After dinner, coffee was served, thin, reddish, typically German coffee. Herr Klueber, with true gallantry, asked Gemma's permission to smoke a cigar.... But at this point suddenly something occurred, unexpected, and decidedly unpleasant, and even unseemly!

'Has your mother said nothing to you ... about ... 'About? 'About me? Gemma suddenly flung back into the basket the cherries she had taken. 'Has she been talking to you? she asked in her turn. 'Yes. 'What has she been saying to you? 'She told me that you ... that you have suddenly decided to change ... your former intention. Gemma's head was bent again.

Riccardo, knowing that a person who is writing in cipher must not be interrupted, sat down on the sofa behind her and yawned like a man who can hardly keep awake. "2, 4; 3, 7; 6, 1; 3, 5; 4, 1;" Gemma's voice went on with machine-like evenness. "8, 4; 7, 2; 5, 1; that finishes the sentence, Cesare." She stuck a pin into the paper to mark the exact place, and turned round.

The basket tottered, fell ... a few cherries rolled on to the path. A minute passed by ... another. 'Why did she tell you so? he heard her voice saying. Sanin as before could only see Gemma's neck. Her bosom rose and fell more rapidly than before. 'Why?

Any one meeting her would not, to use Pushkin's words, have stood still before 'the holy shrine of beauty, but before the sorcery of a half-Russian, half-Gipsy woman's body in its full flower and full power ... and he would have been nothing loath to stand still! But Gemma's image preserved Sanin like the three-fold armour of which the poets sing.

Gemma's friendship, her grave unconsciousness of the charm she exercised over him, her frank and simple comradeship were the brightest things for him in a life that was none too bright; and whenever he began to feel more than usually depressed he would come in here after business hours and sit with her, generally in silence, watching her as she bent over her needlework or poured out tea.