"Oh, it'll do." He felt his superiority.
Paul Schlieben put his paper aside that evening. When his son asked him politely if he would not read, he shook his head: "No, I've read the whole evening." He, too, felt the need of, nay, felt it his duty to have, a friendly talk to his son, even if he found that Käte was going too far, as usual. She really need not make such a fuss of the boy, he had done wrong hi any case; the Braumüller matter must not be forgotten, he ought to have come openly--but really, after all, it was only a stupidity, a thing that might happen ninety times out of every hundred.
The man resolved to raise his monthly allowance by 100 marks, when he paid him on the first of the month. Then he would certainly have ample, and there could be no more talk of not being able to make both ends meet and of secrecy.
It was already far past midnight when the parents and son at last parted. Käte stretched herself in her bed with a feeling of happiness she had not known for a long time: she would soon fall asleep; she would not have to lie so long waiting for sleep to come to her, she felt so relieved, so reassured, so soothed. Things were working better now, everything would still be right at last. And she whispered softly to her husband: "Paul!" He did not hear her, he was already half asleep. Then she whispered more urgently: "Paul, Paul!" And when he moved she said softly: "Paul, are you angry with me?"
"Angry? Why should I be?"
"Oh, I only thought you might be." She did not want to give any explanation, besides it was hardly necessary, for she had the impression that he, too, felt that they themselves would be on better, pleasanter, more cordial and more united terms with each other in the future. Oh yes, if they were on better terms with him--the boy--then he and she would also be on better terms with each other.
The elderly woman was seized with a great longing for the days when they loved each other. She felt ashamed of herself, but she could not help it, she stretched out her hand to the bed that stood next to hers: "Give me your hand, Paul."
And as she groped about in the dark, she found his hand that was searching for hers. They clasped hands.
"Good night, dear husband."
"Good night, dear wife."