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The Song Of Songs Part 81

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He stopped in front of various display windows--a cigar shop, a butcher's, and, longest of all, a haberdasher's. From which Lilly concluded his undergarments also required a change.

When he turned his profile toward her, she saw a lean, bony face with a prominent nose and a bush of reddish-brown hair on either side of his chin. He did not appear to be sickly; rather seedy or withered. But the lids of his small, slit-like eyes were swollen and inflamed, and before he stepped into the garish illumination of the shop window, he planted dark-blue goggles on his nose.

He carried a thin cane, which he pressed into the shape of a bow on the pavement and then let shoot out straight again. The silver handle of this cane, which did not harmonise with the shabbiness of his clothing, recalled something to Lilly connected with chilliness, warm rolls, autumnal glow, and Sunday chimes.

She cried aloud. Now she remembered.

Fritz Redlich! Yes, it was Fritz Redlich. No doubt of it. Her girlhood love! Her girlhood love! Her great warrior in life's battles! Her St.



Joseph's protege!

Oh, G.o.d, her St. Joseph! And the revolver! And the potato soup with sliced sausage! And the three graves at Ottensen!

"Mr. Redlich! Mr. Redlich!"

Trembling, laughing, she stood behind him and stretched out both hands.

He dropped his goggles and blinking his weak eyes, suspiciously scrutinised the tall, elegant lady from behind whose lace veil two great, tear-filled eyes were s.h.i.+ning a blissful greeting. Then he awkwardly pulled at the brim of his hat.

"Mr. Redlich--I'm Lilly--Lilly Czepanek. Don't you remember me any more?"

Yes, now he remembered.

"Certainly," he said, "why shouldn't I?"

As he spoke he gave a furtive jerk at his waistcoat, as if that were the readiest way of improving the poverty of his appearance.

"Dear me, Mr. Redlich! We haven't seen each other for an eternity. I think it must be seven or eight years. No, not quite. But it seems much longer. Everything's gone well with you in the meantime, hasn't it? And I suppose you're dreadfully busy. But if you're not, we might spend a little time together now."

He really was quite busy, but if she so desired, they might remain together a while.

"How would it be if we went to a restaurant and took a gla.s.s of beer?"

she suggested, still between laughter and tears. "Well, well, Mr.

Redlich, who'd have thought it possible?"

He was decidedly opposed to taking a gla.s.s of beer.

"Restaurants are always so stuffy and full of people, and the beer here is so wretched--unfit to drink."

"The poor fellow has no money to pay for it," Lilly thought, and proposed sitting on a bench instead. It made no difference, just so they were together.

"That's worth considering," he said, "although--" He looked about warily on all sides to see if anyone was scandalised at the ill-matched couple.

They turned into the quieter Weinbersgsweg. Lilly, looking at him sidewise with pride and emotion, as if she had created him out of nothingness, kept murmuring:

"Is it possible? Is it possible?"

In a dark spot near a church they found a pleasant bench overhung with lilac buds which a love couple had just vacated.

"Well, now tell me all about yourself, Mr. Redlich. My, the things we have to say to each other!"

"There _is_ a good deal to tell," he replied, hesitating, "but perhaps my lady will begin."

"Oh, pshaw, I haven't been a 'my lady' for a long time," cried Lilly, blus.h.i.+ng consciously.

"Yes, to be sure--I heard something of the sort," he replied.

Lilly felt there was a note of blame in his tone, as if his susceptibilities had been offended.

"But I'm not in the least sorry," she hastened to add. "All in all I lead a much freer and pleasanter life. And I haven't the slightest cares. I have a charming little home. In fact, I'm in the best of circ.u.mstances. And I'd be ever so happy if you were to come and see for yourself. I'm always at home in the middle of the day. And I'd like you to dine with me some time."

"Oh," he said, obviously moved by the pleasant prospect.

She drew a breath of relief at having steered so smoothly past the rocks of her autobiography.

And he asked no questions. On the other hand he seemed as little disposed to be communicative in regard to his own situation past or present.

"Life has a sunny and a shady side," he said, "and he who sits on the shady side would do well to reflect whether or not he should speak much of it."

"But you can trust an old friend like me," cried Lilly. "Imagine we're sitting here on our porch in Junkerstra.s.se. Do you recollect? That evening we spoke to each other the first time was an evening just like this, in May."

"It was warmer," he rejoined quickly, and drew his coat together at his neck.

"Are you chilly?" she asked, laughing, because she was aglow.

"I didn't bring--" he paused an instant--"I didn't bring my spring overcoat along to-night."

"Then we'd better get up," she said, becoming meditative.

"We can tell each other all we have to say just as well walking as sitting."

So they strolled about the dark church a number of times, but no autobiographical narrative resulted. She evaded and he evaded, and when forced to speak, they regaled each other with generalities.

Lilly praised her happy lot in life, and he sighed repeatedly.

"Yes, it's hard, very hard!"

Exactly as once during examinations. The rhythm of it still sounded in her ears, as if she had heard it the day before.

"How are your father and mother?" she asked to change the subject.

His father had died two years before after a short sickness, and his mother still sewed neckties.

He adjusted something invisible under his raised coat collar, probably a gayly patterned testimony of maternal skill and goodness.

After Lilly had expressed her sympathy she ventured with throbbing heart to inquire after Mrs. Asmussen and her daughters.

Mr. Redlich smacked his lips audibly.

"Very unpleasant neighbours. The elder girl married a paymaster, who will probably be dismissed soon on account of his irregularities. The younger has charge of the library, the mother is completely in the clutches of drink."

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The Song Of Songs Part 81 summary

You're reading The Song Of Songs. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Hermann Sudermann. Already has 557 views.

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