"I have not sailed round the world, as you suppose," I said, "but I
confess I envy you the novelties you are going to behold. Coming to
Homburg you have plunged _in medias res_."
He glanced at me to see if my remark contained an allusion, and hesitated
a moment. "Yes, I know it. I came to Bremen in the steamer with a very
friendly German, who undertook to initiate me into the glories and
mysteries of the Fatherland. At this season, he said, I must begin with
Homburg. I landed but a fortnight ago, and here I am." Again he
hesitated, as if he were going to add something about the scene at the
Kursaal but suddenly, nervously, he took up the letter which was lying
beside him, looked hard at the seal with a troubled frown, and then flung
it back on the grass with a sigh.
"How long do you expect to be in Europe?" I asked.
"Six months I supposed when I came. But not so long--now!" And he let
his eyes wander to the letter again.
"And where shall you go--what shall you do?"
"Everywhere, everything, I should have said yesterday. But now it is
different."
I glanced at the letter--interrogatively, and he gravely picked it up and
put it into his pocket. We talked for a while longer, but I saw that he
had suddenly become preoccupied; that he was apparently weighing an
impulse to break some last barrier of reserve.
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