And now, as often before when Mr. Dehnicke had spoken to her of his employés, a senseless desire arose in Lilly to watch over the fate of all these people, help where help was necessary, bring sunshine to the gloomy, and relief to the suffering. But she took good care not to acquaint Mr. Dehnicke with her absurd ideas. "Now we will see the most delicate of all the operations," said Mr. Dehnicke. "It is putting on the patina, which gives the pieces their real style." He opened the door to the next shop, and the smell of a thousand poisons again assailed Lilly's nostrils. Here there were women at work also, side by side with the men. They applied varnish and acids and brushed and rubbed. They looked sallow and jaded. At Lilly's entrance they were so taken aback that they dropped their brushes and cloths and stared at her in utter astonishment. "One would have to begin with these to win the confidence of all," Lilly thought, and gave them a cordial nod. But they seemed to take her greeting as mockery or blame, and turned back to their work with a grimace well-nigh scornful. In the packing room, where women and children were employed exclusively, Lilly's appearance produced a happier impression. The girls laughed and whispered, and nudged one another with their elbows. The only one who paid no attention to her was a pregnant woman, who seemed to find it difficult to keep from sinking to the floor. She held her drooping lips tightly compressed and a vivid red spotted her cheeks. Nevertheless her arms moved in feverish haste wrapping one paper wisp after the other about the limbs of the figure standing on the table in front of her, and inclining now to the right, now to the left under her manipulations. Lilly led Mr. Dehnicke aside and asked: "May I give her something?" "She's being provided for," he replied, unpleasantly affected, it seemed. He quickly opened another door. "This leads to the store room, where the pieces are kept until sold, with the exception, of course, of those which are made to order." Lilly looked down a dimly lighted corridor, from which the cold air blew upon her. On the shelves and stands stood endless rows of phantom beings, shapeless in their grey paper envelopes. "Oh, how queer," said Lilly, shivering a little, and preparing to walk along the narrow passageway. The very same instant, however, she noticed her friend start as in fright, and cast a helpless look about him. Then he stepped in front of her and blocked the way. "What's the matter?" asked Lilly, surprised. He turned colour and said: "We had better not go in there. We'll go somewhere else. Besides, there's nothing to look at there, not a thing. You yourself see there isn't." He planted himself squarely in front of her, so that she could not possibly look down the long line of shelves. This, of course, merely heightened her curiosity.