He did not venture to approach her.

She walked away.

He heard the door close, hurrying steps on the little stairs, then silence.
He remained where she had left him, leaning against the latticed wall for some time.

When he moved it was to pick up a piece of maidenhair which had dropped from her dress.
"That was a scene!" he said, looking at it, and at the trembling of his own hand.

"It carries one back to the days of the Romantics.