His eyes were so full of this fantastic vision, the
soul of his youth dwelt so deeply within this dream-built
tabernacle, that it was with a shock of anguish he saw coming up the
walk towards him the young girl herself. His airy structure fell in
ruins around him; he was again common and immeasurably beneath her;
she was again in her own world, where, if she thought of him at all,
it must be as a squalid vagabond and the accomplice of a thief. If
he could have escaped, he would, but he could not move; he sat still
and waited with fallen eyes for her to pass him.
At sight of him she hesitated and wavered; then she came towards
him, and at a second impulse held out her hand, smiling with a
radiant pleasure.
"I didn't know it was you at first," she said. "It seems so strange
to see any one that I know!"
"I didn't expect to see you, either," he stammered out, getting
somehow upon his feet, and taking her hand, while his face burned,
and he could not keep his eyes on hers; "I--didn't know you were
here."
"I've only been here a few days. I'm drawing at the Museum. I've
just got back. Have you been here all summer?"
"Yes--all summer. I hope you've been well--I suppose you've been
away--"
"Yes, I've just got back," she repeated.
"Oh yes! I meant that!"
She smiled at his confusion, as kindly as the ideal of his day-dream.
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