The happy young wife entertained the warmest sympathy for the other unhappy one, who always had the look of being pursued by some terrible evil. More than once a sisterly feeling impelled her, not from curiosity, but from genuine sympathy, to put a question to Hannah about her sorrow; but she read in the sombre, hopeless eyes of the sufferer that the burden must be borne alone; so she left Frau von Gropphusen in peace. She listened patiently when the nervous woman talked ceaselessly about a thousand different things, in short, jerky sentences as if to drown some inner voice; neither would Kläre interrupt with a single question the heavy silence in which, at other times, Hannah would sit for hours, watching her as she busied herself with her little housewifely tidyings and mendings. It was only in watching this peaceful activity that Frau von Gropphusen recovered her equanimity. Her face would then lose its unnatural fixity of expression, and she would draw a deep breath, as though eased of a heavy burden. "It is so peaceful here with you, Frau Kläre," she said sometimes. "It does one good." Güntz shook his head over her weird conduct. One thing gratified him concerning her, however: it was that she admired his little son unreservedly, and could be given no greater treat than to be allowed to hold the boy on her lap. She would sit as though worshipping the child, who, indeed, was no angel, only a quite ordinary, fat, chubby infant. At such times her small finely-chiselled features would light up with a glorious beauty; so that Güntz one day whispered to his wife, "Do you know what the Gropphusen needs? A child!" And in his open-hearted way he once said jokingly to Hannah: "Wouldn't you like a beautiful boy like that for yourself, dear lady?" At that Hannah Gropphusen sprang up wildly. Her hands shook so that she could scarcely hold the baby, whom Kläre snatched from her only just in time. "I, a child?" she cried. "For the love of God, never, never!" A look of horror was in her eyes. She held her hands before her face as though to shut out something horrible. Güntz drew back shocked, and stole softly from the room, taking with him the baby, who had set up a mighty howling. Kläre put her arm round the trembling woman, led her to a seat, and soothed her like a child. Sitting motionless, Frau von Gropphusen listened to the gentle, comforting sound of the words, without taking in their meaning, Suddenly she sprang up and said in a voice of enforced calm: "Forgive me, dear kind Frau Kläre, for having caused such a disturbance. It is wrong of me not to be able to control myself better. Don't be vexed, or angry with me, but please just forget what has happened." She began hurriedly to prepare for leaving. Her hands still shook as she pinned on her hat before the mirror. "Let me go with you, dear Frau von Gropphusen," urged Kläre.