spect: "Where did you discover him?" Diederich joked. "You know, every woman cannot find hers as near at hand as you did, but he is all the more sound." "Are you beginning that again?" cried Guste, but without resentment. She even gave Diederich a tender glance and said with a gentle sigh: "Mine is still off, goodness knows where. It makes one feel like a widow." She looked thoughtfully at Magda, who was hanging on Kienast's arm. Diederich gave food for reflection: "Out of sight, out of mind. There are as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it." As he said this he pushed Guste close to the wall and gazed pleadingly into her face. And for a whole minute there was really a responsive smile on her dear, chubby face.
By this time, unfortunately, they had reached 77 Schweinichenstrasse, and had to say good-bye. As there was nothing to be seen beyond the Saxon Gate, they turned homewards again with Herr Kienast. Magda, who had taken her fiance's arm, said to Diederich encouragingly: "Well, what do you think?" At which he turned red and began to breathe hard. "What is there to think about?" he managed to say, and Magda laughed.
In the empty street it was rapidly growing dusk when they saw some one coming towards them. "Isn't that …?" said Diederich uncertainly. The figure approached, stout, evidently still young, with a large, soft hat, fashionably dressed, and walking with the feet turned inwards. "'Pon my word, Wolfgang Buck!" He reflected disappointedly: "And Guste tried to make out that he is at the other end of the world. I must cure her of lying."
"Is that you?"—Young Buck shook Diederich's hand—"Delighted to see you."—"So am I," replied Diederich, in spite of his disappointment with Guste, and he introduced his future brother-in-law to his school-friend. Buck congratulated the happy pair and then walked behind them with Diederich. "I am sure you were on your way to your fiancée's," Diederich
