r.

The porter looked at his watch. It was only nine o'clock; He had orders
to admit no one before eleven.

So there was nothing left for him but to be patient, hard as it was.

Wandering about without any definite plan, his heart led him to where
Julie lived. But, the moment he saw the house in the distance, he
turned back. It was impossible for him to look her in the face again
until he could say to her: "It is all over; you have nothing more to
fear from my past; the spectre has been sent back among the dead."

He went into the Pinakothek, where at this time of the year and day the
large, unheated halls stand empty. He stretched himself on the sofa
that stands in the centre of the immense room, and looked over the
walls with half closed eyes. The power and warmth of life of these
noble pictures acted, without his knowing it, upon his spirits, and his
mood continued to grow quieter and more gentle, until at last he fell
fast asleep, his hat pushed down so low over his eyes that the
attendants and the few visitors took him for an exceedingly studious
painter, who made use of his hat-brim to protect him from the
reflection of the light from above.

He had to make up for the sleep he had lost in the night; thus three,
four hours went by without his waking. At length one of the attendants,
to whom the matter began to look rather odd, stepped up and discovered
who it was. However, he had altogether too much respect for the artist
to disturb his sleep before the time came for closing the gallery.
Jansen sprang to his feet, asked what time it was, and was startled to
find how many hours he had lost. He left the gallery in great haste,
and hurried to the hotel.

The countess was too unwell to receive any visits today, the porter
told him.

Jansen shrugged his shoulders, growled out a few unintelligible words,
and began to mount the stairs without paying any further heed to this
answer. Up-stairs he received a similar reply from the countess's maid,
who met him in the corridor.

"Take this card to the countess. I regret to disturb her, but it is
absolutely necessary that I speak with her."

The girl took the card, acted as though the name which she read on it
was perfectly unknown to her, and then remarked:

"Just at this moment it is really quite impossible for the countess to
receive you. The doctor is with her and is renewing the bandages. That
always gives her such pain that she is forced to lie perfectly still