And Agathe said, with a little sigh, the way a woman subjected to amorous pressure might quickly resist one more time before she surrenders: “So it boils down to having to do everything ‘on principle’ after all?” And she looked at him, returning his smile.

But he answered: “Yes, but only on one principle!” And this now was something quite different from what he had intended to say. It again came from the realm of the Siamese Twins and the Millennium, where life grows in magical stillness like a flower, and while it may not have been plucked from thin air, it did point directly to frontiers of thought that are solitary and treacherous. Agathe’s eye was like a burst agate. If at this instant he had said only a little more or laid his hand on her, something would have happened which, soon after, she was unable to name, as it was already gone. For Ulrich did not want to say any more. He took a knife and a piece of fruit and began to peel it. He was happy because the distance that had separated him from his sister only a short while ago had melted into an immense closeness; but he was also glad that at this moment they were interrupted.

•

The social demands of the party engulf them. Ulrich gets drawn into conversation with several guests, all of them oddly preoccupied with the same subject of morality, albeit in decidedly worldly terms. (“That was virtually the whole agenda this evening!” sighs Ulrich’s friend General Stumm von Bordwehr, who was hoping for a more productive, historically significant meeting of minds.) Agathe listens to her brother from a distance, herself caught up in obligatory chatter.

•

“Why is he talking with everyone? He should have left with me! He’s cheapening what he said to me!” She liked some of the things she could hear him say through the hubbub, but they hurt her nonetheless. Everything that came from Ulrich was hurting her again, and for the second time that day she suddenly felt the need to get away from him. She despaired of ever being able, with her one-sided nature, to be what he needed, and the prospect that after a while they would be going home like any two people, gossiping about the evening behind them, was unbearable.

•

Not long after, she goes home by herself, leaving word for Ulrich that she had not wanted to disturb him.

23

AFTER THE ENCOUNTER

As Professor August Lindner, the man who had entered Agathe’s life by the poet’s grave, climbed down towards the valley, what he saw before him were images of salvation.

If Agathe had looked back at him after they parted, she would have been struck by the man’s ramrod-stiff, prancing gait, for he had a peculiarly buoyant, proud, and yet anxious manner of walking. Lindner carried his hat in one hand and occasionally passed the other hand through his hair; such a free and cozy feeling had come over him.