durchtritt--durchschritt--she was not sure.
It was perfectly lovely--she read it through translating stumblingly--

"A leaf from summery days I took it with me on my way, So that it might
remind me How loud the nightingale had sung, How green the wood I had
passed through."

With a pang she felt it was true that summer ended in dead leaves.

But she had no leaf, nothing to remind her of her summer days. They were
all past and she had nothing--not the smallest thing. The two little
bunches of flowers she had put away in her desk had all crumbled
together, and she could not tell which was which.... There was nothing
else but the things she had told Eve--and perhaps Eve had forgotten...
there was nothing. There were the names in her birthday book! She had
forgotten them. She would look at them. She flushed. She would look at
them to-morrow, sometime when Mademoiselle was not there.... The room
was waking up from its letter-writing. People were moving about. She
would not write to-day. It was not worth while beginning. She took a
fresh sheet of note-paper and copied her verse, spacing it carefully
with a wide margin all round so that it came exactly in the middle of
the page. It would soon be tea-time. "Wie grun der Wald." She remembered
one wood--the only one she could remember--there were no woods at
Barnes or at the seaside--only that wood, at the very beginning, someone
carrying Harriett--and green green, the brightest she had ever seen, and
anemones everywhere, she could see them distinctly at this moment--she
wanted to put her face down into the green among the anemones. She could
not remember how she got there or the going home, but just standing
there--the green and the flowers and something in her ear buzzing and
frightening her and making her cry, and somebody poking a large finger
into the buzzing ear and making it very hot and sore.

The afternoon sitting had broken up. The table was empty.

Emma, in raptures--near the window, was calling to the other Germans.
Minna came and chirruped too--there was a sound of dull scratching
on the window--then a little burst of admiration from Emma and Minna
together. Miriam looked round--in Emma's hand shone a small antique
watch encrusted with jewels; at her side was the new girl. Miriam saw a
filmy black dress, and above it a pallid face. What was it like? It was
like--like--like jasmine--that was it--jasmine--and out of the jasmine
face the great gaze she had met in th