“Lordy, now I’m sitting here in the dumps,” said Frau Krupass with an almost apologetic smile. “That always happens when you boast about being cheerful and all that. But now listen to me, girlie. Do you know what a rag-and-bone business is?”
Petra, with visions of a musty cellar, nodded slightly.
“Well, girlie, that’s what I’ve got, and there’s no need for you to turn your nose up, it’s a good business and gets one a living and you don’t have to stand for any nonsense from old lechers. Waste paper and old iron and bones and rags, and I’ve got skins too.… But I don’t push a little barrow to the rubbish dumps, not me! I’ve got a big yard, with a truck, and six men working for me. And then there’s Randolf; he’s my supervisor—a bit slow, but trustworthy, as I’ve already told you. Fifty or sixty barrows come to me every day. I pay what’s proper, and they know that Ma Krupass pays the proper prices. And it’s growing from day to day, now that everyone goes round with a barrow because there’s less and less work.”
“But, Ma Krupass, I don’t know a thing about it,” said Petra timidly.
“You don’t need to, my girl. Randolf knows everything, except that he can’t reckon and is slow. You’ll do the reckoning; you’ll keep the books and pay out the money. I’ve got a lot of confidence in you, girlie, and it’ll go all right. In the evenings you’ll phone up the spinning mills and the factories, to ask them what they’re all paying for the stuff that concerns them. I’ll tell you the names and telephone numbers of the people, and you’ll pay according to what they say. And then the truck will deliver at the factories, and you’ll get the money. We send off the paper when we’ve got enough for a truckload. Randolf will tell you all that. That again brings in more money. It cheers you up, girlie, when you take in money; and today any child can do business, when the dollar’s always rising.”
Seeing the old woman’s enthusiasm, Petra felt that the plan was not impossible. After all, it was work. Let’s say it’s a kind of future. Then she remembered that they were in prison, and that there must be some catch in the thing, and her joy left her.
But what the old woman now said restored her joy. “You needn’t think that there’s anything shady in my place. Everything’s honest and open. Proper bookkeeping, and no more bother with the income-tax people than everyone has. And a little house in the yard, slap-up, spotless, with flowers and summer-house, the proper thing. Downstairs lives Randolf, and I live upstairs, three rooms with bath and kitchen—classy. Randolf’s wife cooks my meals, and she shall cook them for you, too. I like eating nice things. She doesn’t cook bad! I was thinking you could live in my flat, and you can wash in the bathroom.… But you mustn’t use the bath, for then the enamel will get spoiled. I’m the only one who knows how to manage it. You must give me your solemn oath that you won’t touch the bath. Anyway, you won’t get so dirty that you’ll have to take a bath—Randolf and the men do the dirty work.”
Petra nodded. But there was still one thing, the one point.
“And tomorrow morning Killich’s coming here at visiting time; he’s my lawyer, and he’s a sly dog, girlie. I’ll say to him: ‘Killich, Herr Killich, Solicitor Killich—tomorrow or the day after tomorrow or even today someone will come to you in office hours. Petra Ledig’s her name. She is my business representative. Don’t look at what she’s wearing—that’s from the Welfare Office or Provident Society—look at her face. And if she does me down, Killich, then I won’t believe another person in the world, not myself, and you least of all, Herr Killich.’ ”
“Ma Krupass!” Petra laid her hand on the old woman’s, convinced that her crime could not really be so bad.
“Well, my girl, that’s how it is. And then Killich will take you to Randolf and tell him that you are to be like me as regards money and giving orders and rooms and food, just like me, and whatever clothes, underwear and things you need, you’ll buy yourself. And in the Municipal Bank, where I have my account, you’ll sign just like me; Killich will arrange all that for you.”
“But, Ma Krupass …”
“Well, what are you ‘butting’ about? You’ll have good food, you’ll have clothes, and you’ll have lodgings; and you can also have your baby in my place, though I hope I’ll be outside again by that time. There’s only one thing you won’t get: you won’t get wages. And why not? Because you’ll only give them to him. You’re that soft, I know. I’m a woman myself. If he comes and looks at you with a faithful doggy look, then you’ll give him what you’ve got. But what you haven’t got—that’s to say, my money—that you won’t give him—I know you well enough for that. That’s why you’ll get no wages. Not because I’m stingy! And now tell me, child, do you agree or don’t you?”
“Yes, Ma Krupass, of course I agree. But there’s still one other thing—the thing.”
“What thing? The fellow? We’ll not speak about him anymore. First let him become a fellow!”
“No; your affair, Ma Krupass—yours!”
“What do you mean, my affair? I’ve told you everything, girlie, and if that isn’t enough for you—”
“No, your affair—the business you’re in prison for, the business you want to get six months for.”
“Want to, girlie! You’re a nice one. A funny idea you’ve got of what I want, I must say! Now, that’s no concern of yours. You’ve got nothing to do with it, nor has the business; it’s only my greediness is responsible. It’s like this. When we sort rags I usually stand by, so that no cotton gets mixed up with linen rags, because linen is dear and cotton’s cheap. I suppose you understand that?”
“Yes.”
“That’s good,” said the old woman, pacified. “You’ve got brains, you have. Well, there I’m standing, with the rags flying through the air, and my greedy eyes see something sparkling. I edge up to it cautious=like and there I find a real dress shirt, and the idiot who chucked it away—though it was probably his servant, wanting to make a little money out of linen rags—a lot of people do that today because wages won’t go far—he’s left three diamond studs sticking in the front. I see at once they’re not duds, but real diamonds, and not little ones either! Well, I pretend I see nothing and pull them out quietly. Pleased as punch when I’ve got them home. That’s the way I am; if something hasn’t cost me a cent I’m as happy as a child. I know I mustn’t do it—I’ve been caught twice already—but I can’t stop myself. I always think no one’s seen me …”
The two looked at each other. Petra was very relieved, and Frau Krupass was very worried.
“And that’s the nasty thing about me, child: I can’t stop myself. It worries me to death because I can’t overcome it. Killich also says to me: ‘What’s the point of it, Frau Krupass? You’re a rich woman; you can buy yourself a whole bagful of diamond studs! Stop doing things like that.’ And he’s right, but I can’t stop. Not however much I try. What would you do in a case like that, child?”
“I would give them up,” said Petra.
“Give them up? Those beautiful studs? I’m not as silly as that.” Frau Krupass managed to control herself. “Well, let’s say no more about them. I’m angry enough without talking about it. What else is there for me to say? One of my men must have seen me, and before I can turn round there’s the copper, and he’s very polite. ‘Well, Frau Krupass, what’s all this again about stealing by finding?’ he says and grins, too, the fool! ‘Have you put it in the wardrobe again? Open it!’ And fathead that I am, I really have put the studs there again, like last time—the man’s right and no fool at all! It’s only me who’s always the fool. Well, the person who isn’t born a thief will never become one as long as he lives.”