And she told her mother of the gifts she was bringing home, the little nothings given her by the guests.
She was very happy writing this letter: the little nut-brown home rose before her.
"Ach!" she said, "how I long to be home!" And then she put down her pen, and sighed.
"Ach!" she said, "and when I'm there, I shall long to be here.

_Da wo ich nicht bin, da ist das Gluck_." Marie was something of a philosopher.
Suddenly she heard the report of a pistol, followed by a second report.
She dashed out of her little pantry, and ran in the direction of the sound.

She saw Waerli in the passage.

He was looking scared, and his letters had fallen to the ground.

He pointed to No.