Page:The Dial (Volume 73).djvu/704

Magistratsrätin Spatz attached herself to her as an elder friend. But that did not keep Herr Klöterjahn's wife from mixing agreeably with the other patients. As for instance with Herr Spinell, who, to the astonishment of all—for up to now he had had nothing in common with a single soul there—had showed towards her from the very start an extraordinary amount of consideration and devotion, and with whom she enjoyed chatting in the free hours left her by a strenuous schedule.

He approached her with an immeasurable amount of caution and reverence, and would only speak to her in a carefully suppressed voice, so that the Rätin Spatz, who had trouble with her ears, could scarcely understand a word he said. He would tiptoe with his large feet up to the chair where Herr Klöterjahn's wife was leaning back frail and smiling. Then he would stop about two steps off, keep one leg behind the other, bend the upper part of his body, and talk in his impeded, somewhat sipping manner. He was quite urgent, but ready at any moment to retreat and disappear in haste as soon as the least sign of weariness or satiety might be noticeable on her face. But he did not weary her. She would press him to be seated near the Rätin and herself; then she would ask him some question or other, and listen to him smiling and engrossed. For quite frequently he would drop into a delightful and unusual vein, such as she had never met with before.

"Just why are you at Einfried?" she asked. "What sort of cure are you taking, Herr Spinell?"

"Cure? . . . I take a bit of the electric treatment. But not to speak of. I will tell you frankly why I am here. . . . On account of the period."

"Ah!" said Herr Klöterjahn's wife, supporting her chin in her hand and turning towards him with the exaggerated eagerness one puts on for children who are about to tell something.

"Oh, yes. Einfried is entirely Empire; it used to be a castle, a summer home, I am told. This side wing is a recent annex, but the main building is old and genuine. Now there are times when I simply can't live without Empire, when it is inevitably necessary to my well-being. It is plain that you must feel one way when among furniture which is soft and comfortable even to the extent of the lascivious, and feel another way among such tables, chairs, and drapes as these, with their marked straight lines. This brightness and strength, this cold crass simplicity and its reserve of