“Have you reason to fear that you will lose him?” “Yes.” “Then I am surprised,” said the old lady, “that Freder has not yet come to me....” “He is very ill, mother....” The old lady made a movement as though wishing to rise, and into her archangel eyes there came an angry glitter. “When he came here recently,” she said, “he was as healthy as a tree in bloom. What ails him?” Joh Fredersen got up and began to walk up and down the room. He smelt the perfume of flowers streaming up from the garden through the open window as something inflicting pain which ripped his forehead into lines. “I do not know,” he said suddenly, quite disjointedly, “how this girl could have stepped into his life. I do not know how she won this monstrous hold over him. But I heard from his own lips how he said to her: My father no longer has a son, Maria....” “Freder does not lie, Joh. So you have lost him already.” Joh Fredersen did not answer. He thought of Rotwang. He had said the same words to him. “Is it about this that you have come to me, Joh?” asked his mother. “Then you could have spared yourself the trouble. Freder is Hel’s son. Yes.... That means he has a soft heart. But he is your’s too, Joh. That means he has a skull of steel. You know best, Joh, how much obstinacy a man can summon up to attain to the woman he wants.” “You cannot make that comparison, mother. Freder is almost a boy, still. When I took Hel to me I was a man, and knew what I was doing. Hel was more needful to me than the air to breathe. I could not do without Hel, Mother. I would have stolen her from the arms of God himself.” “From God, Joh, you can steal nothing, but something can be stolen from man. You have done that. You have sinned, Joh. You have sinned towards your friend. For Hel loved Rotwang and it was you who compelled her.” “When she was dying, mother, she loved me....” “Yes. When she saw that you, too, were a man, when your head was beating against the floor and you were crying out. But do you believe, Joh, that this one smile in her dying hour outweighs all that which brought about her death?” “Leave me my belief, Mother....” “Delusion....” Joh Fredersen looked at his mother. “I should very much like to know,” he said with darkened voice, “on what you feed your cruelty towards, me, mother.” “On my fears for you, Joh—on my fears!” “You need have no fears for me, mother....” “Oh yes, Joh—oh yes! Your sin walks behind you like a good dog on the trail. It does not lose your scent, Joh—it remains always and always at your back. A friend is unarmed against his friend. He has no shield before his breast, nor armour before his heart. A friend who believes in his friend is a defenceless man. A defenceless man was it whom you betrayed, Joh.” “I have paid for my sin, mother.... Hel is dead. Now I have only Freder left. That is her legacy. I will not give up Hel’s legacy. I have come to you to beg of you, mother: help me to win Freder back.”