remember that picture? and that lake on which we once sailed in a dream? Whither, I wonder?" And more softly: "Whither are we drifting?"
He did not answer any more. Wrapped in one another's arms, and lips pressed against lips, they sank backwards deeper and deeper over the water. Was he dragging her? Was she pushing him? Never had they been so united. Now, Diederich felt, it was right. He had not been noble enough, not trustful enough, not brave enough, to live with Agnes. Now he had risen to her, now all was well.
Suddenly came a bump and they started up. Diederich's movement was so violent that Agnes had fallen from his arms to the bottom of the boat. He drew his hand across his forehead. "What on earth was that?" Shivering with fright he looked away from her, as if he had been insulted. "One should not be so careless in a boat." He allowed her to get up by herself, seized the oars at once and rowed back. Agnes kept her face turned towards the shore. Once she ventured a glance at him, but he looked at her with such harsh, mistrustful eyes that she shuddered.
In the darkening twilight they walked faster and faster back along the high road. Towards the end they were almost running. It was not until it was so dark as to hide their faces that they spoke. Perhaps Herr Göppel was coming home early the next morning. Agnes had to get back. … As they arrived at the inn, the whistle of the train could be heard in the distance. "We can't even eat together again," cried Diederich, with forced regret. In a terrible fluster their things were got, the bill was paid and they were off. They had scarcely taken their seats when the train started. It was fortunate that it took them some time to get their breath and to talk over the hasty questions of the last quarter of an hour. They had nothing more to say, and there they sat alone under the dim light as if stunned by a great mishap. Was it that sombre country out there which had once enticed them and promised happiness?
