I hung my basket on my arm and clambered up into the pear-tree
to breathe a purer air.
The music of the dance floated up to me over the tree-tops. I
overlooked the entire garden and gazed directly into the brilliantly
illuminated windows of the castle. Chandeliers glittered there like
galaxies of stars; a multitude of gaily-dressed gentlemen and ladies
wandered and waltzed and whirled about unrecognizable, like the gay
figures of a magic-lantern; at times some of them leaned out of the
windows and looked down into the garden. In front of the castle the
brilliant light gilded the grass, the shrubbery, and the trees, so
that the flowers and the birds seemed to be aroused by it. All around
and below me, however, the garden lay black and still.
"_She_ is dancing there now," I thought to myself up in the tree,"
and has long since forgotten you and your flowers. All are gay; not a
human being cares for you in the least. And thus it is with me, always
and everywhere. Every one has his little nook marked out for him on
this earth, his warm hearth, his cup of coffee, his wife, his glass of
wine in the evening, and is perfectly happy; even the Porter with his
big nose is content. For me there is no place, I seem to be just too
late everywhere; the world has not a bit of need of me."
As I was philosophizing thus, I suddenly heard something rustle on the
grass below me. Two soft voices were speaking together in a low
tone.
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