She was not a Copenhagen girl, only spent a few Winters in the town,
then disappeared again.
Some years after, it was rumoured, to everybody's astonishment, that she
had married a widower in a provincial town--she who belonged to the
realms of Poesy!
Then there was another young girl, nineteen. Whereas the fairy maiden
did not put herself out to pretend she troubled her head about the young
men whom she fascinated with the rhythm of her movements or the
radiation of her loveliness, was rather inclined to be short in her
manner, a little staccato in her observations, too accustomed to
admiration to attract worshippers to herself by courting them, too
undeveloped and impersonal to consciously assert herself--this other
girl was of quite another sort. She had no innate irresistibility, but
was a shrewd and adaptable human girl. Her face did not attract by its
beauty, though she was very much more beautiful than ugly, with a
delicately hooked nose, a mouth full of promise, an expression of
thoughtfulness and determination. When she appeared at a ball, men's
eyes lingered on her neck, and even more on her white back, with its
firm, smooth skin, and fine play of the muscles; for if she did not
allow very much of her young bust to be seen, her dress at the back was
cut down nearly to her belt.
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