The Drinker

necessary for household expenses is kept in it—very little; but if we had taken some money at the office of an evening, too late to pay it into the bank, we would bring it home with us here. So I was very anxious to see how much I would find. I managed to open the compartment without any noise and to get the cash-box out. In the dark I also came across the chequebook which was lying beside the cash-box. I thrust it into my pocket, and carried the cash-box carefully, step by step, into the hall, put it down first, closed the door, and switched on the light. It may sound odd, but I uttered something like a prayer before unlocking the cash-box. I prayed to God, whom I had so long forgotten, to let there be a lot of money in the box. A lot of money, to continue this life between drunkenness and sickness for a long time yet, still more money to induce Elinor, la reine d’alcool, to go travelling with me. I didn’t give a single thought to the position into which I was putting my own business by taking the money. Indeed, I believe that if I had thought of it, the greater the harm done to my business, the more I would have exulted. So I uttered my prayer, and opened the cash-box. I lifted out the upper compartment, in which there were only coins, and looked eagerly for the paper-money.

My disappointment was boundless. There were only a very few notes there; as I counted them over, they came to not much more than fifty marks. I still see myself standing there, those few notes in my hand, an icy feeling in my heart.

“This is the end,” I thought. “This is neither enough for Elinor nor for Lobedanz. In two or three days, this money will be gone, and then there’s only surrender, sackcloth and ashes, the cold-water asylum, the final abandonment of hope.”

So there I stood, with death in my heart, for a long, long time.…

Then life came back to me again. Again I saw Lobedanz’s yellowish face before me, with its dark beard; I heard his soft voice whispering something about jewellery and silver.… Jewellery was out of the question. The little jewellery that Magda possessed was worth hardly anything; besides, she kept it in the bedroom dressing- table.

But silver—yes, we had silver. Beautiful heavy old table silver, a bargain picked up at an auction. There was still room in the suitcase.… I drank quickly and deep. I emptied the whole bottle at a go. There had been a good third of it left. For a moment, the sudden strong intake of alcohol flooded my body like a red wave. I shut my eyes. I trembled. Would I have to vomit? But the attack passed, I had myself under control again. Quickly I went into the dining-room and switched on the chandelier. Now I did not need the caution that I had so carefully observed hitherto. I unlocked the sideboard and took out the silver, which was wrapped by the dozen in flannel covers (we only use it on festive occasions). First I laid it all in a heap before me, then I packed it away, big spoons, knives and forks, the small set, the fish knives and forks.… I stuffed them all into the suitcase as they came. Now only the silver serving-spoons, the salad- and carving-set were missing, which were lying loose in a separate drawer. I quickly took them out; suddenly something was driving me on, I had to get out of this house. A spoon fell with a clatter to the floor. I swore aloud, made a grab for it, and let a second spoon drop.

Impatiently I tugged at the drawer to pull it right out, and to carry the single silver pieces in it to the suitcase. The drawer gave unexpectedly, and fell with a crash on to the silverware, which rang brightly. I gathered everything together however I could get hold of it, without a care now for the noise I made, and hurried with it to the suitcase. As I went, two or three spoons fell. I threw what I had brought into the suitcase, on top of everything, and ran back to get those I had dropped. Then I stood rooted, staring at Magda, who was there in the middle of the dining-room, in front of her burgled sideboard!

17

She turned her head and looked at me for a long time. I noticed how she started, how rapidly she breathed, how she tried to collect herself.

“Erwin,” she said, in a faltering voice. “Erwin! What a sight you are! Where have you been to get into such a state? Where have you been for so long? Oh Erwin, Erwin, I’ve been so worried about you! And to think that we should meet like this! Think Erwin, we loved each other once. Don’t destroy it all! Come back to me, I’ll help you the best I can. I’ll be so patient with you. I’ll never quarrel with you again.…”

She had been speaking faster and faster. Breathlessly she stopped and looked imploringly at me.

But I was stirred by quite other feelings. I glared with fury and hatred at this well-kept woman, flushed with sleep, in her blue dressing-gown—I who looked as if I’d been rolling in the gutter, I who stank like a polecat. I think it must have been the reference to our former love that put me into such a mad rage. Instead of moving me, her words only reminded me how far off was the submerged past.

Angrily I stumbled towards Magda, nearly fell over a silver-serving spoon, looked furiously at it, took a step back and trampled it underfoot. Magda cried out. I rushed over to her, raised my fist and cried: “Yes, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I come back to you. And then what happens? Then what happens?”

I shook my fist in her face.

“You put me to bed and make sure I go to sleep and as soon as I’m asleep you fetch the doctors and let them take me off to some drunkards’ home for life, then you laugh up your sleeve and do as you please with my property. Yes, that’s what you’d like!”

I glared at her. Now I was breathless too. And Magda glared back at me. She had turned very pale, but I could clearly see she wasn’t afraid of me, despite my threatening behaviour.

Suddenly my mood changed; my excitement died down, and coolly and calmly I said, “I’ll tell you what you are. You’re just a common vulture. I say it to your face!”

She didn’t flinch. She only looked at me.

“You’re a traitor! You betrayed our whole marriage when you set those doctors on to me. I’d like to spit in your face, you—!”

She was still staring at me. Then she said swiftly, “Yes, I did send the doctors after you, but not to betray you, only to save you if that’s still possible. If you had a spark of commonsense left, you would realise that, Erwin. You must see that you can’t live another month like this. Perhaps not another week …”

I interrupted her. I gave a sneering laugh.

“Not another week? I can live for years like this, I can stand anything, and I’ll go on living just to spite you, just to spite you.”

I leaned close to her.

“Shall I tell you what I’m going to do next time I get drunk? I’m going to stand outside your window and shout out to everyone that you are a traitor, a greedy vulture, greedy for my money, and greedy for me to die …”

“Yes,” she said spitefully. “I believe you’re capable of that. But if you did, you wouldn’t land up in a home, you’d land in prison instead. And I’m not sure that it wouldn’t do you good.”

“What?” I shouted at her, and now my rage had reached its climax. “Now you want to have me put in prison? Just you wait! You won’t say that again! I’ll show you.…” I reached for her. I saw red. I tried to seize her by the throat, but she fought back. She really was almost as strong as I, indeed in my present condition she was probably much stronger. We wrestled together. It was a sweet sensation, to feel this once loved, now hostile body pressing so close against me, now her breast, now her straining thigh. The thought shot through my head, “Suppose you were to kiss her suddenly, whisper loving words in her ear? Could you get her round?” I whispered in her ear: “Tomorrow night I’ll come and kill you. I’ll come very quickly.…”

Magda called loudly, “No, no, it’s all right, Else! I can manage him alone. Ring Dr Mansfeld and the police. I’ll keep him here!”

I turned in astonishment. Sure enough, there stood Else, pretty as a picture, attracted by the noise of our struggle. And then she disappeared in the hall, towards the telephone. I tore myself free with a jerk.

“You’re not going to get me, Magda!” I gave her a push and she fell back.

As I ran, I snatched up the scattered silverware, including the broken serving-spoon, and rushed into the hall. I threw everything into the suitcase, and tried hard to shut the lid. Magda was there already.

“You’re not taking those things! My silver is staying here! You’re not going to drink that up as well!”

A yard away, Else was busy telephoning. I heard her say: “He wants to kill his wife!”

“My God, what a child you are,” I thought.

We both tugged at the suitcase. Then suddenly I let go and Magda went sprawling on the floor again. I tore