But now, in the night hours, great white flowers have opened suddenly;
their chalices are spread wide; they are breathing. And furry twilight
moths slip down into their petals, making the whole plant quiver. I go
from one flower to another. They are drunken flowers. I mark the stages
of their intoxication.
Light footsteps, a human breathing, a happy "_Godaften_."
And I answer, and throw myself down on the road.
"_Godaften_, Edwarda," I say again, worn out with joy.
"That you should care for me so!" she whispers.
And I answered her: "If you knew how grateful I can be! You are mine,
and my heart lies still within me all the day, thinking of you. You are
the loveliest girl on earth, and I have kissed you. Often I go red with
joy, only to think that I have kissed you."
"Why are you so fond of me this evening?" she asks.
I was that for endless reasons; I needed only to think of her to feel
so. That look of hers, from under the high-arched brows, and her rich,
dark skin!
"Should I not be fond of you?" I say again. "I thank every tree in my
path because you are well and strong. Once at a dance there was a young
lady who sat out dance after dance, and they let her sit there alone. I
didn't know her, but her face touched me, and I bowed to her.
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