He had commenced to run again; now he had to slacken his pace. And still he was quite breathless when he came to the Laemkes. The father and son had gone out, but the mother and daughter were sitting there as though waiting for him. Frida jumped up, so that the edging she had been crocheting for the kitchen fell to the ground, seized hold of both his hands, and her blue eyes sparkled with admiration. "Oh, how fine you are, Wolfgang! Like a gentleman--awfully grand." He smiled: that was nice of her to say it. But when Frau Laemke said in a voice full of feeling: "Now I shall have to treat you as a grown-up, Wolfgang--you're getting too big now--but I like you none the less for that, you may be sure, I could hardly be fonder of my own children"--he felt happier than he had done the whole day. His face grew tender and full of emotion, and he pressed the gnarled hand that gave his such a hearty shake firmly. Then he sat down near them; they wanted to hear about everything. He showed them his gold watch and let it strike the hour; but he did not talk much, the atmosphere of the room filled him with a vague feeling of delight, and he sat quite still. There was the same smell of freshly-made coffee as once before, and the myrtle in the window and the pale monthly rose mingled their fainter perfume with it. He had quite forgotten that he had already been there some time; all at once it occurred to him with a sudden feeling of dread that he had something to ask. He cast a searching glance at the woman. She was just saying: "Oh, how pleased your mother will be to have such a big son," when he jerked out: "Am I her son?" And as she did not answer, but only looked at him uncertainly with her eyes full of dismay, he almost shouted it: "Am I her son?" The mother and daughter exchanged a rapid glance; Frau Laemke had turned scarlet and looked very embarrassed. The boy had got hold of her arms with both hands and was bending over her. There was no getting out of it. "Don't tell me any lies," he said hastily. "I shall find it out all the same. I must find it out. Is she my mother? Answer. And my father--he isn't my real father either?" "Good gracious, Wolfgang, what makes you think of such a thing?" Frau Laemke hid her embarrassment under a forced laugh. "That's all nonsense." "Oh no." He remained quite serious. "I'm old enough now. I must know it. I must." The woman positively writhed: oh, how disagreeable it was for her; let the boy go somewhere else and ask. "I should get into nice trouble with them if I told tales," she said, trying to get out of it. "Ask your parents themselves, they'll tell you all you want to know. I'll take care not to meddle with such things."