Undine had fastened her pearly teeth upon one of his fingers, appearing at the same time very gloomy and angry.

Suddenly, however, she looked up in his eyes with an expression of tender melancholy, and whispered in a soft voice: "It is your own fault." Then she hid her face, and the knight, strangely confused and thoughtful, continued his narrative.
"This Bertalda was a haughty, wayward girl.

Even on the second day she pleased me no longer as she had done on the first, and on the third day still less.

Still I continued about her, because she was more pleasant to me than to any other knight, and thus it was that I begged her in jest to give me one of her gloves.

'I will give it you when you have quite alone explored the ill-famed forest,' said she, 'and can bring me tidings of its wonders.' It was not that her glove was of such importance to me, but the word had been said, and an honorable knight would not allow himself to be urged a second time to such a proof of valor." "I think she loved you," said Undine, interrupting him.
"It seemed so," replied Huldbrand.
"Well," exclaimed the girl, laughing, "she must be stupid indeed.