He was no doubt somewhat taken aback at this reception, but his sunken eyes with the black lines under them looked past her indifferently.
He was terribly tired--one could see--or was he ill? But all that would soon be better now. Käte seized hold of his hand once more full of the joyful hope that had been awakened in her, and drew him after her into her room.
He allowed himself to be drawn without resisting, he only asked with a yawn: "What's the matter?"
"I must tell you something." And then quickly, as though he might escape her or she might lose courage, she added: "Something important--that concerns you your that concerns your--your birth."
What would he say--she had stopped involuntarily--what would he say now? The secret of his birth for which he had fought full of longing, fought strenuously--oh, what scenes those had been!--would now be revealed to him.
She leant towards him involuntarily, ready to support him.
Then he yawned again: "Must it really be now, mater? There's plenty of time to-morrow. The fact is, I am dead beat. Good night." And he wheeled round, leaving her where she was, and went out of the room and up the stairs to his bedroom.
She stood there quite rigid. Then she put her hand up to her head: what, what was it? She must not have understood him properly, she must be deaf, blind or beside herself. Or he must be deaf, blind or beside himself. She had gone up to him with her heart in her mouth, she had held out her hand, she had wanted to speak to him about his birth--and he? He had yawned--had gone away, it evidently did not interest him in the slightest. And here, here, in this very room--it was not yet four years ago--he had stood almost on the same spot in the black clothes he had worn at his confirmation--almost as tall as he was now, only with a rounder, more childish face--and had screamed aloud: "Mother, mother, where is my mother?" And now he no longer wanted to know anything?
It was impossible, she could not have understood him aright or he not her. She must follow him, at once, without delay. It seemed to her that she must not neglect a moment.
She hurried noiselessly up the stairs in her grey dress. She saw her shadow gliding along in the dull light the electric bulb cast on the staircase-wall, but she smiled: no, she was not sorrow personified gliding along like a ghost any longer. Her heart was filled with nothing but joy, hope and confidence, for she was bringing him something good, nothing but good.