"Don't you want a new dress? I saw some beautiful materials in Gnesen.
Rosenthal has a wonderful display in his window--oh my, such finery!
Cherry-coloured cloth and black braid to trim it with. The prefect's
wife wears such a dress on Sundays. Wouldn't you like to have the same,
darling?"
[Pg 15]
Her eyes began to sparkle. New dresses! A dress like such a fine lady!
She took a fancy to it; but only for a few moments, then the light in
her eyes again died out. What was the good of that dress at the side of
such a man? She shook her head energetically as she answered: "I won't
have one."
He saw he would never attain his object in that way. Although Mr.
Tiralla hated getting up he soon saw that he would have to squeeze
himself down beside her behind the table or drag her out by main force.
And then if she cried out, that lovely little dove, "Go away! Leave me,
you beast!" then he would have to close her mouth with a kiss, by main
force.
Mr. Tiralla cursed as he put one of his big feet down on the ground. It
vexed him to have his peace disturbed in this way; but he could not
resist her, she was too charming. He groaned as he rose from his seat.
She noted his approach with terror. Oh, now he would clasp those big
white arms round her, which were all covered with downy hairs, those
arms into which her mother had delivered her whilst she was still young
and harmless, and had only thought of the dear saints, and had felt no
desire for any man. Now she was no longer young and harmless, and--a
sudden thought flashed through her brain--oh, perhaps she could
persuade him to buy poison then! Poison for the rats! She had often
broached the subject before, but he had never wanted to do it. He did
not believe in the rats, and even if they were to jump over his nose he
would not bring any poison into the house. The thought was repugnant to
him. When she wanted poison for the vermin on the farm she had never
been able to get it, except by producing a paper signed by Mr. Tiralla
himself.
[Pg 16]
She shuddered. She shook as though with terror. "Oh, those rats!" Then
she got up hesitatingly. She sat down again, as if undecided--she fell
back almost heavily into her chair; but then she gave herself a jerk.
She rose quickly, went up to her husband, and sat down on his knee.
The sudden change in her almost disconcerted him. But then he felt very
happy. She had not been so nice to him for ever so long. She stroked
his head, and he leant his forehead against her soft bosom, and felt it
heave.
"How fast your heart beats."
"No wonder," she answered shortly. And then she kissed his bristly hair
and fondled him. "My old man, my darling, you'll really buy me a new
dress? Really?"
He nodded eagerly, he was too comfortable to speak.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account