I am of the first order, and you are of the second. It
is as impossible to join the one with the other as it is to make
diamonds out of charcoal and water. Between Gretchen and the Princess
Hildegarde of Hohenphalia there is as much difference as there is
between--what simile shall I use?--the possible and the impossible?"
"Gretchen--" I began.
"Gretchen?" The Princess laughed amusedly. "She is flown. I beg you
not to waste a thought on her memory."
Things were going badly for me. I did not understand the mood. It
brought to mind the woman poor Hillars had described to me in his rooms
that night in London. I saw that I was losing something, so I made
what I thought a bold stroke. I took from my pocket a withered rose.
I turned it from one hand to the other.
"It appears that when Gretchen gave me this it was as an emblem of her
love. Still, I gave her all my heart."
"If that be the emblem of her love, Herr, throw it away; it is not
worth the keeping."
"And Gretchen sent me a letter once," I went on.
"Ah, what indiscretion!"
"It began with 'I love you,' and ended with that sentence.
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