Pleasantly and without flinching he looked at her.
Of course, Frau von Prackwitz understood that. It was why she wanted to take Violet from this depressing room back to more familiar and happy surroundings.
“It is just that which may be wrong,” said the doctor. “Perhaps she ought not to see anything familiar when she wakes up, neither her own room nor someone she knows; perhaps not even you, madam.”
“Why do you think that, doctor?” There was an angry note in her voice. “I know what has happened. Some trifling love affair or other which my daughter has taken tragically. I’m no Puritan; I shan’t reproach her in the slightest.…”
“Exactly, exactly.” The doctor smiled. “You speak of a trifling love affair, when the girl is almost out of her reason about it. Two worlds, madam, two quite different worlds, unable to comprehend each other.”
“Violet will get over it,” began Frau von Prackwitz.
The doctor interrupted rudely. “I have been thinking about it this afternoon, madam. Perhaps I made a mistake. I ought to have let the child talk before I gave her an injection. She was not unconscious, madam. No, not at all. She was simulating unconsciousness.… Something terrible has happened, but she is even more afraid of something terrible which is going to happen. Please allow me, madam. I may be wrong, naturally. I explain it to myself thus—it is possible, there are indications, that by pretending to be unconscious she thinks to escape what she fears. We don’t know; perhaps this dreaded harm is not imminent.”
“But what further harm can there be, then?” Frau von Prackwitz was really annoyed. “The fellow’s thrown her over, and I’ve thought so a long time. By chance she met him here again, and he had a row with my husband. He must have behaved like a blackguard; otherwise my husband wouldn’t have thrown wine in his face. All this would upset her terribly, and she had a nervous collapse. Fine. Or rather, far from fine. But what further harm can happen now?”
“That’s just the thing, madam, we don’t know, and perhaps are not intended to know. If the facts are as you suppose,” and the doctor became persuasive, since Frau Eva remained totally unconvinced by his words, “then the girl ought to have been relieved after the scene. The fact that her father, and thus her parents, knew her secret at last ought rather to have relieved her, surely. How is it then that a young girl like her should dissemble thus? Why should she adopt a remedy so unusual?”
“But you are only supposing that Violet was dissembling, doctor. You didn’t talk with her.”
“No, unfortunately not. It’s pure assumption; there you are right, madam.”
“Very well; what would you advise?”
“Put your daughter in the hospital here. She would be well looked after and possibly she will feel safe there. And you can be with her in ten minutes if she wakes up and asks for you. Should she want to go home—that can be done at once.”
Frau Eva looked thoughtfully at the doctor, but she was not thinking about his proposal, the man being far too silly for that. She knew her Violet. A few words and all would be well again between mother and daughter. Naturally she would respect Violet’s secret, as one woman to another; this she had already firmly resolved on without all this talk of harm and greater harm. No, if Frau Eva was now thoughtful, it was because she was wondering why the doctor had made a proposal behind which there must be something else. “And you would attend Violet in the hospital here?” she asked glibly.
“If you wish, madam,” replied the unsuspicious doctor. “I would naturally keep an eye on her.”
The thing was clear. The little panel doctor had smelled money; his warnings against approaching harm were meant to justify a long and expensive treatment. Frau Eva stood up. “Thank you very much, doctor. I will talk it over with Herr von Prackwitz. Should we decide for it, I will let you know.”
It was a very definite rebuff. One can only be oneself. She was otherwise a sensible, clear-sighted woman, but in this moment she was only the daughter of a rich man, mistrusting the motives of all who were compelled to do something for money in order to live. “He only wants to earn some money.” That foolish attitude converted his shrewd, solicitous advice into a mean and selfish transaction.
And in the end the old man understood her. With a faint flush in his thin cheeks he bowed forlornly and approached the bed. There was nothing more he could do. He had been able to give the girl a little sleep, but he was not allowed to make easier for her what was coming after it. The world was like that. With bound hands the willing helper had to see the condemned, the unhappy, those in peril, go their way. He could merely warn. But his voice was drowned by laughter and death-cries, and was unnoticed as he stood by the roadside.
“Take great care when she wakes up,” he said, and went.
Restlessly Frau von Prackwitz walked up and down. Where was Achim? And no word from the chauffeur! She had been nearly an hour in this wretched hotel. To have something to do, she now went downstairs to the telephone. Though it was not possible to speak as she wished, for the telephone was too public, it did her good to hear young Pagel’s restful and somewhat leisurely voice.
Yes, so far everything was in order. The Commission of Control had gone off in their car a long time ago. Yes, rumors. He had refused to sign their record of the investigations, on the ground that he had no authority. They had gone away without. One other thing, which would amuse madam. Amanda Backs, you know, the poultry maid, had given little Meier a box on the ears several times, before all the visitors. With the shout of “Traitor!” No, nothing had happened. Not one of the gentlemen had moved a finger in Meier’s aid. Oh, yes, splendid, really splendid. A capital person in her way, a real bit of the people, but magnificent.… And how was Fraulein Violet, by the way?
Not well? Oh! Certainly, he would do that, and see about the heating for the bath also, of course. He wouldn’t forget. No, there would be no trouble about girls for once. The women had all come back soaked from the potato lifting; it was raining very heavily now. He would pick out three or four of the most suitable and see that the Villa was cleaned in person.
An excellent young fellow. Almost smiling, Frau von Prackwitz left the telephone. Before she went up, she ordered another coffee. Yes, please, in her room. And now back to it. But, just as last time, she was overcome with a feeling of anxiety on the stairs. Her heart beat faster. What had happened to Vi? She ran in such a way that she could feel her skirts on her knees.
But then back in her room, unchanged, Vi was in a deep sleep.
The anxiety declined and was replaced by dark desperation, and she thought suddenly: it’s like coming back to a dead person. And again she began the agonized wait.
Eva didn’t yet know how good it can be to come back to a dead person.
VIII
“What does this mean?” shouted the indignant Lieutenant. “You’ve been following me, I suppose? You want to arrest me?”
“Don’t talk nonsense, man,” said the other calmly. “How can I arrest you? We’re illegal.”
“Am I only a man now, not an officer anymore?” asked the Lieutenant sarcastically. “Well, what do you want with me?”
“Like to know, for example, how you have succeeded here.”
“I shall report on that to Herr Richter. As ordered.”
“I merely thought you might possibly forget it. That’s why I came to meet you.”
“Why should I forget? In my duty I have never forgotten anything.”
“I merely thought so,” said the fat man in apology, “because we have now been informed which arms dump has been discovered.” He stood still—but only because the Lieutenant had come to a stop—and directed his cold ruthless glance at him, saying very softly: “Yes, you know about it, my friend. You knew about it in there with Herr Richter. It’s yours.”
“I didn’t know.” The Lieutenant nearly shouted.
“Quietly, quietly, my friend,” said the fat man, laying his hand on the other’s shoulder, in such a way that the Lieutenant noticed he was as strong as an ox. “The question now is whether you will tell me who’s blabbed. Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know. Either you know him or you know her, and we’d very much like to know, too. For the future, you understand?”
“I know nothing about it,” said the Lieutenant obstinately.
“Rubbish. The former bailiff, Meier from Neulohe, was sitting in the Entente Commission’s car, and he
