In 1901 a Danish novel by O. W. Møller was translated under the German title _Wer kann dafür?_[6] This traces the efforts of a German officer’s daughter to overcome a lesbian attraction and marry a young astronomer in the Heidelberg Observatory. She becomes deeply attached to her suitor but cannot respond physically; and so they part, although because of her masculine temperament and interests they are much closer in spirit than most married couples. Involving little dramatic action, this psychological study seems to have been of as high quality as Reuter’s _Aus guter Familie_. In contrast, August Niemann’s _Zwei Frauen_[7] involves an infatuation between a married woman and the brilliant music student whom her husband, head of a conservatory, has accepted as a pupil despite her apprehensive protests. The danger she foresaw materializes, and from there on the story becomes what the reviewer calls ‘an imitation of Belot’s _Mlle Giraud_ which is hardly a credit to German letters.’ Much more interesting, in view of its author’s subsequent reputation, was Jacob Wassermann’s _Geschichte der jungen Renate Fuchs_ (1900), and it is a matter of regret that this volume, though it ran to several editions, has proved inaccessible. The _Jahrbuch’s_ review mentions a lesbian affair between two minor characters, a university student of political economy and the daughter of ‘one of Europe’s most famous courtesans.’[8] A puritanic critic later describes the heroine herself as “wading through all manner of filth,”[9] but makes no reference to homosexual experience either on her part or anyone’s else. The year 1903 saw the publication of three lesbian titles. In Maria Eichhorn’s _Fräulein Don Juan_[10] the heroine’s strong and domineering sensual nature is roused in adolescence by homosexual affairs, but she later knows many men and never returns to her lesbian practices. Maria Janitschek’s “Neue Erziehung und alte Moral”[11] in _Die neue Eva_ is the story of an orphan girl raised among seven foster brothers as one of them and without much supervision, so that she is enlightened early about matters of sex. At puberty she is abruptly cautioned by her foster mother against looseness with men and given a fearful picture of the fate of the unmarried mother. The resulting emotional conflict is severe, but at sixteen, when she shares her room and bed with a charming feminine guest, ‘at last in Agathe’s arms Seffi found a lovely peace.’ Upon being harshly berated for this innocent-seeming play, she defies authority. ‘It is your own upbringing that has driven me into the arms of my friend—now leave me there!’