she said soothingly, but at the same time evasively: "No,
Woelfchen, you can't go with me any more, it's not proper any more." And
she held out her hand: "Good-bye, Wolfgang."

They were among the bushes in a small public garden in which there
were benches, the villas lying at a good distance from it,
quite hidden behind their front gardens. There was nobody in sight in
the quiet radiance of the noonday sun. But even if somebody had come,
it would not have made any difference; he seized hold of her with both
hands in a kind of rage. "I am going with you--I shall not let you
go."

She resisted forcibly: what was the stupid boy thinking of? "Let me
go," she said, spitting at him like a little cat, "will you let me go
at once? You hurt me. Just you wait, I'll tell Flebbe about it, he'll
be after you. Leave me in peace."

He did not let her go. He held her clasped in his arms without
saying a word, his books were again lying in the dust.

Did he want to kiss or strike her? She did not know; but she was
afraid of him and defended herself as best she could. "You runaway!"
she hissed, "hm, you're a nice one. Runs away from home, hides himself
in the wood. But they got you all the same--and it served you
right."

All at once he let her go; she stood in front of him mocking him.
She could easily have run away now, but she preferred to stand there
and scold him: "You runaway!"

He got very red and hung his head.

"How could you think of doing such a thing?" she continued with a
certain cruelty. "So silly. Everybody laughed at you. We positively
could not believe it at first. Well I never, said I, the boy runs away
without money, without a cap, without a piece of bread in his pocket.
You wanted to go to America like that, I suppose, eh?" She eyed him
from top to toe and then threw her head back and laughed loudly: "To
think of doing such a thing."

He did not raise his head, only murmured half to himself: "You
shouldn't laugh at it, no, you shouldn't."

"Come, what next? Cry, perhaps? What does it matter to me? Your
mother cried enough about it, and your father ran about as if he were
crazy. All the rangers in the district were on their legs. Tell me,
didn't you get a good thrashing when they dragged you home by the
collar?"

"No." He suddenly raised his head and looked straight into the eyes
that were sparkling a little maliciously.

There was something in his glance--a mute reproach--that compelled
her to lower