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"I want nothing, nothing but this happiness," he thought, staring

at the bone button of the bell in the space between the windows,

and picturing to himself Anna just as he had seen her last time.

"And as I go on, I love her more and more. Here's the garden of

the Vrede Villa. Whereabouts will she be? Where? How? Why did she

fix on this place to meet me, and why does she write in Betsy's

letter?" he thought, wondering now for the first time at it. But

there was now no time for wonder. He called to the driver to stop

before reaching the avenue, and opening the door, jumped out of

the carriage as it was moving, and went into the avenue that led

up to the house. There was no one in the avenue; but looking

round to the right he caught sight of her. Her face was hidden by

a veil, but he drank in with glad eyes the special movement in

walking, peculiar to her alone, the slope of the shoulders, and

the setting of the head, and at once a sort of electric shock ran

all over him.