Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/179

Moloch devouring human sacrifices in his flaming maw. Her cheeks turned red, and she felt that she would gladly be swallowed in a yawning pit and disappear forever. Meanwhile, the strains of the song resounded through the room, each note an added torment for her flayed nerves.

When at last the singing subsided, Eric introduced the two guests of honor, Herr Nemwitz and Herr Breunbuhr. The applause was like the thunderous beating of rain on a man with an enormous and almost completely bald skull came to the front of the stage. For a while he looked about him, clicked his heels, then bowed from the waist and at once began to talk, waving his arms dramatically. Anna tried to catch what he was saying, but not a single word could she make out. Her heart beat loudly, drowning out any sounds that came from outside her. Suddenly, as though impelled by an inner force, she jumped from her seat.

"Where are you going?" Kurt whispered in surprise.

Anna pointed to the door. She seemed to be suffocating and couldn't manage to make a sound. When Kurt got up and firmly took her elbow, she allowed herself to be led away like a child about to be punished.

On the stage, Eric, who could see what was happening, flamed with rage. He had never been able to abide that Viennese "Don Juan" with his elegant manners; for no clear reason he had always felt a passionate dislike of him. Now his anger blazed up. He gnawed at his fingernails, fidgeted with his hair, and could hardly remain seated. Fritz put a restraining hand on his arm in case he should venture to get up. Fritz's heart, too, was beating wildly. He had the feeling that he was holding the end of a tight-rope wire at a circus, while his sweetheart was balancing herself on the thin and treacherous wire. One tiny move, the tiniest disruption