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“I spoke about roast goose,” I laughed, “and I only mentioned water as a contrast. No, no, Magda, think no more of it, we get quite sufficient to eat, as Herr Fritsch has explained. After all, I’m not doing any heavy work, I make brushes, Magda, I’ve become a real brush-maker. Can you imagine that, Magda? You’re sitting in my chair in the office, and your husband is making brushes in the meantime. Isn’t there a song about the happy brush-maker? Oh, no, it’s a happy soapboiler. But I’m happy and cheerful, brush-making in my cell. I whistle and sing all day, well, no, I don’t really, of course, because in this place where such a great many things are allowed, that is forbidden. But inwardly I whistle and sing.…”

I have been speaking faster and more sarcastically all the time, I am carried away with anger, but I manage to control myself. Outwardly, everything looks calm and peaceful. I notice the growing perplexity in Magda’s face; during my words she has occasionally used her handkerchief and wiped her eyes. Fritsch has been leaning back in his chair, with a bored expression, counting the flies on the ceiling. He is much too coarse-witted to detect the ironical undertone in my words. Incidentally, Magda is wearing a costume which I do not recognise: a very smart dark-grey costume with a light pinstripe. I reflect bitterly how my very own wife, while I am suffering beyond measure, has time and leisure to think of a new costume, to go to the dressmaker, to have fittings.… So unjustly is fortune shared out, so thoughtless are even the best of wives! By the way, Magda is looking very well, during the period of our separation she has considerably improved, she looks decidedly pretty. While I, during this time.…

57

After my swift ironical words, a deep silence ensues. I am in no hurry to break it. Magda fidgets rather uneasily in her chair, I am waiting for what she will say next. But when she begins to speak it is only to thank me for the power of attorney.

“I don’t really need it. Neither the post office nor the bank have made the slightest trouble about my signature. But I understand what you meant, Erwin, and I want to thank you for your good opinion of me.” She reaches her hand to me across the table, and I take it coolly and cautiously, being careful not to press it warmly. The hand returns somewhat disappointed to its owner.

“And how’s business?” I ask, just for something to say.

But Magda livens up.

“I’m happy to be able to tell you, Erwin, that business is going well. Yes, remarkably well. The harvest turned out quite satisfactorily, and we did well out of it. Particularly with peas and beans, I had unbelievable luck. I bought just before the price suddenly went up.…”

For a while we go on quietly talking about the business. Really, quite incontestably, an efficient woman. How her eyes light up, how lively her voice becomes, as she speaks of it! Her eyes did not light up before, when it concerned her husband. But it was always like that with her: the business, the garden, the house, everything was more important than her husband. I might have been jealous of these inanimate things, had it not been somewhat ridiculous. But perhaps not so ridiculous as this efficiency which the doctor found so praiseworthy, too. If only she could think a bit more rationally, she wouldn’t go to all that trouble, she would lease the business for a small income and live comfortably on our property. But of course such a thing wouldn’t occur to a woman of her kind.

So my thoughts ran on, while I listened absent-mindedly to Magda’s eager chatter, which awakened memories of old clients, of drives through off-the-track villages, of lucky deals.… But suddenly I prick my ears up, for Magda has mentioned our rival, the young beginner who had set up in my native town in defiance of myself, and had already given me some trouble on two or three occasions. Am I mistaken, or does a special undertone creep into Magda’s voice, something warmer than hitherto? I listen very attentively to what Magda is saying.

“Yes, just think, Erwin, I’ve got to know Herr Heinze personally. One day I got so angry about our constantly undercutting each other just for the sake of snatching a few customers, and we were both losing by it. So I simply went to his office and said: ‘Herr Heinze, I’m Frau Sommer, can’t we try to come to some sensible arrangement? There’s a living for both our firms in this town, but if we go on undercutting each other, we’ll both end up bankrupt!’ That’s what I told him.”

Magda looks at me triumphantly.

“And what did he say?” I ask eagerly.

“Well,” she says, and again I detect the warm undertone in her voice, “Herr Heinze is not only an educated man, he is intelligent as well. In five minutes we had come to an understanding. Every morning, midday and evening, we inform each other of the prices we’re paying, neither offers a groschen more or less, and poaching customers is completely abolished!”

“Oh, you innocent!” I cry, “he’ll land you properly in the cart. That Heinze is just a cunning double-dyed rogue. Naturally he’d say nothing to your face, but behind your back he’s pinching your customers one after the other. Eventually he’ll have the whole business in his hands, and you’ll be left with nothing!”

“Poor Erwin,” says Magda, “still so full of suspicions. No, I’ve got to know Herr Heinze really well. I meet him socially sometimes.…”

I wondered what lay behind that “socially sometimes” but Magda did not blush. She continued: “I know enough about human nature to be able to say: Herr Heinze is a thoroughly upright, decent man, whom I would trust blindly. And if you think me too trusting, Erwin, perhaps our books would be sufficient proof. We’ve increased our turnover by half as much again this autumn. That would hardly be the case if Herr Heinze had been snapping up our customers!”

She looked at me triumphantly, her eyes shining with joy. I said icily, “The figures on their own prove nothing. You say the harvest was good and the weather particularly favourable for early crops, so the turnover might well improve for a short time and you could still be losing customers.… By the way I can’t remember, wasn’t this Heinze married?”

“Certainly,” Magda nodded. “But he was divorced a year ago.”

“Is that so?” I answered, as indifferently as possible. “Divorced—of course, she divorced him?”

“How can you say such a thing,” cried Magda, almost furiously. “I told you just now he’s a highly respectable man. Of course the blame was on the other side!”

“Of course …” I repeated, rather sarcastically. “Pardon me, but you seem quite thrilled about this fellow, Magda!”

For a moment she hesitated, then she answered in a firm voice: “Yes, I am, Erwin!”

We looked at each other for a long time in silence. Many unsaid things were in the air. Even head-warder Fritsch had noticed something, he had leaned forward on his chair, his elbows propped on his knees, and watched us both expectantly. Incidentally, the usual visiting-time was over long ago.

58

“Have you already started divorce proceedings?” I finally asked, in a low voice.

“Yes,” she answered just as softly.

Again a deep silence fell between us. Suddenly we both looked round at head-warder Fritsch, who got up from his chair with a jerk and rattled his keys.

“Well,” he said, almost embarrassed, “visiting-time is up by rights, but as far as I’m concerned, you can have ten minutes more.” And he went over to the window where he ostentatiously turned his back on us.

“Erwin,” whispered Magda hastily, “I had a long struggle with myself, it seemed so wrong to leave you in such a position; but then when I heard from the medical officer that your case was going all right, and that you would probably be let out in a short time.…”