“Certainly, Mamma,” he said like a good boy. “I only wanted to …”
But he did not finish. The outer door opened and shut hurriedly, more than hurriedly. Steps hastened along the corridor …
“It’s only Minna,” explained his mother.
Their door opened without a preliminary knock; it was flung open, and Minna stood in the doorway, elderly, gray and shriveled.
“Many thanks, Minna,” said Frau Pagel quickly, for at the moment she did not wish to have any news from Georgenkirchstrasse; she had got here all that had interested her there. “Many thanks, Minna,” she therefore said, as severely as possible. “Please prepare the supper immediately.”
Minna, however, for this once was not the obedient servant; her eyes were angry and suspicious, her yellowish cheeks flushed. She didn’t look at her mistress, her hostile stare was directed at the hitherto beloved young master.
“Shame on you,” said she breathlessly. “Shame, Wolfgang. So you are sitting here?”
“Are you mad?” Frau Pagel cried indignantly, for she had never experienced such behavior from her Minna in all the twenty years of their life together. “You’re disturbing us.”
But no notice was taken and Wolfgang at once comprehended that something had happened “there.” A misgiving overcame him. He saw Peter, and Peter saying to him “Good luck, Wolf” as he went with the suitcase to the pawnbroker’s. She had given him a kiss …
He took Minna by the shoulders. “You’ve been there? What’s the matter? Tell me quickly!”
“If you say another word,” cried Frau Pagel, “you’re dismissed on the spot.”
“You needn’t dismiss me, madam!” said Minna, outwardly calm. “I’m going anyhow. Do you think I’d stay in a place where the mother encourages the son to do wrong and the son obeys her? Oh, Wolf, how could you have done it? How could you have been so wicked?”
“Minna, what’s come over you? How dare you! You old …”
“You can call me what you like, I’m used to it, madam. Only I always thought that you called me names only in fun. But now I know you mean it; you think that we’re different, that I’m just out of the kitchen and you’re a fine lady.”
“Minna,” shouted Wolfgang, and shook the old servant vigorously. She was quite beside herself. “Tell me what has happened to Peter. Is she …?”
“Oh? Do you really care, Wolf, even though you’ve run away from her on her wedding day and sold all the clothes off her body and left her with nothing but a shabby overcoat? The one from your husband, madam—and nothing underneath, no stockings, nothing … And so the police have arrested her. And what’s the worst of all, I’ll never forgive you for it, Wolf, she was starving. She was retching again and again and almost fell down the stairs.”
“But where do the police come in?” Wolfgang shouted despairingly, shaking Minna as hard as he could. “What have the police to do with it?”
“How should I know?” Minna shouted back, and tried to free herself from the young master who was unconsciously holding her still tighter. “How do I know what mess you’ve got her into? Of her own accord Petra’s done nothing wrong; I know her too well for that. And the vulgar person who lives on the same floor is going about saying that it serves Peter right because she considered herself too good to walk the streets. But I gave her something!” For a moment Minna stood there triumphantly. Then she said sullenly: “God bless her for not doing it, though you and all you menfolk don’t deserve anything better.”
Wolfgang let go of Minna so suddenly that she almost fell. She became silent at once.
“Mamma,” he said agitatedly. “Mamma, I haven’t the least idea what’s happened. I can’t make it out at all. I left about midday and tried to borrow some money. It’s true that I sold Petra’s clothes and that we owed the landlady money, and it’s possible that she hasn’t had much to eat lately. I admit I didn’t notice. I was very often away from there. But what the police have to do with all this!” He was speaking in lower and lower tones. It would have been much easier to tell all this to Minna than to his mother sitting there so wooden, so hard, and, incidentally, just under that particular painting. Well, that was done with, that was all over.
“Anyway, whatever may be the matter with the police, I’ll settle it at once. I’m quite certain, Mamma, that there’s no real trouble—we’ve done nothing, nothing. I’ll go there at once. It must be a mistake. Only, Mamma …” It grew increasingly difficult to speak to the dark woman who sat there quite unmoved, distant, hostile.… “Only, Mamma, unfortunately I’m at the moment without any money whatsoever. I need some for the fare, perhaps to settle with the landlady on the spot, for bail, I can’t tell; things for Petra, too, food.” He stared intently at his mother. There was need for haste. Peter must be freed, he must leave at once. Why didn’t she go to her desk and fetch the money?
“You’re worked up, Wolfgang,” said Frau Pagel, “but, in spite of that, we mustn’t act rashly. I fully agree with you—something must be done for the girl at once. But I don’t think you in your present condition are the right person to do it. Perhaps there will be lengthy explanations with the police—and you are somewhat lacking in self-control, Wolfgang. I think we should call up my solicitor, Justizrat Thomas. He knows all about such matters; he’ll settle it quicker and more smoothly than you.”
Wolfgang looked at his mother’s mouth as if he must not only hear the words she uttered but also read them from her lips. He passed his hand over his face; it felt so dry, the skin really ought to rustle. The hand, however, came away damp.
“Mamma,” he pleaded, “I can’t let this matter be settled by your lawyer and meanwhile sit here calmly, have a bath and eat my supper. I ask you to help me this once in my way. I must settle the matter myself, help Peter myself, fetch her out myself, speak with her myself.”
“That’s just like you,” said Frau Pagel, again rapping her knuckles on the table. “I have to remind you, Wolfgang, unfortunately, that if you have asked me once to do what you want in your own way, you have asked me a hundred times. And whenever I did so, it was always a mistake.”
“Mamma, you can’t compare this case with some childish trifle.”
“Dear boy, whenever you wanted anything all the rest was only a trifle. But this time I won’t yield, it doesn’t matter what you say, if only because these negotiations would bring you into contact with the girl. Be glad you got rid of her; don’t start all over again because of some mistake on the part of the police, or because of some foolish backstairs gossip.” She glanced sourly at Minna, who was standing in the doorway—her accustomed place. “Today you have finally separated from her. You’ve given up this ridiculous wedding, you’ve returned to me, and I’ve received you without any question or reproach. Am I now to witness you and the girl come together again, in fact help you to do this? No, Wolfgang, on no account!”
She sat erect and gaunt, looking at him with flaming eyes. She had not the slightest doubt in her mind, and her will was adamant. Had she ever been gay and free? Had she ever laughed, ever loved a man? All was past and gone. Gone! His father had scorned her advice, but she was not disconcerted; she had persevered. And should she now give way to the son? Do what she did not approve of? Never!
Wolfgang looked at her. He was rather like his mother. With his lower jaw pushed forward, his eyes glistening, he said very gently: “I didn’t quite catch that, Mamma. Today I’ve finally separated from Peter?”
She made a hasty movement. “Don’t let’s talk about it. I require no explanations. You’re here, that’s enough for me.”