The girls put their heads together in the intervals between the dances. All of them, whether fair or dark, brown or red, had had their hair done exactly in the same way. The Gradewitz hairdresser had waved their front hair and made it into an enormous roll over the forehead, with the help of some padding. And then she had made three puffs of the back hair, which she had placed at the top of the head. The only difference between them all was the greater or lesser quantity of hair they had, and the colour of the little bow placed coquettishly on the left side. How awful these young girls looked. The one in bright pink, the other in bright blue, the third in almost orange, the fourth in the colour of arsenic. And then the women! Mrs. Rózycki, the butcher's wife, shone in a stiff silk--dark reddish brown, trimmed with yellow lace--not at all bad in itself, but how common her fat face looked over her tight silk bodice that seemed ready to burst. And then the others! Mrs. Jokisch, in black, trimmed with mauve and a white lace collar, looked exactly like her own grandmother. How a man's soul seems to show itself in his garments. Mr. Böhnke, the schoolmaster, stood in a corner of the ballroom criticizing the company. He had never laid so much weight on appearances before--his mother was a very unassuming woman, and his sisters, oh, dear!--but he had been spoiled since he had made Mrs. Tiralla's acquaintance. She was always beautiful, and especially so this evening. He almost devoured her with his eyes. How splendid she looked in that dainty white dress. She was harmony personified in this confused mass of gaudy [Pg 94] colours. The only coloured thing about her was her smooth, silky dark hair, with the rosebuds in it, and the little bouquet at her bosom. She was the only one who was wearing a low-necked dress. Such a thing had never been the fashion in Gradewitz, where it was only customary to expose the throat and shoulder-blades. It was really extremely indecent to be so uncovered; but none of the women would have dared say that aloud, and the young girls even less. Next time, however, that there was a ball in Gradewitz, all the dresses should be made like Mrs. Tiralla's. The men seemed to approve of it. Even the most innocent children noticed how their fathers' eyes glittered as they looked down at Mrs. Tiralla's shoulders. Sophia Tiralla did not seem to notice all these looks. She gave herself up to the pleasures of the dance like a child--like a little innocent child. All her misery had been wiped away for this short hour. What did it matter to her that all these men stared at her in the same way as her husband always did? Her blood did not course more quickly on that account. Let them! She laughed at them, laughed! If they had known that she had almost killed a human being! Almost poisoned her! She was seized with a nervous inclination to laugh.