She had gone to the window and was looking out into the garden, with her forehead pressed against the pane. How they ran, jumped, hopped, laughed. As though they had been set free. They were trying to catch each other. Frida darted behind the bushes like a weasel, came into sight again with a sharp piercing laugh, and then disappeared once more with a shriek. Wolfgang set off after her wildly. He took no notice of the beds in which the flowers were growing, his mother's delight; he jumped into the middle of them, caring little whether he broke the hyacinths or the tulips, his one thought being to prevent Frida escaping.
And the two others copied him. Oh, how they trampled on the beds now. All three boys were after the girl. The fair plait flew up and down in the sunshine like a golden cord, now here, now there. At last Wolfgang seized hold of it with a triumphant shout. Frida endeavoured to get it away, but the boy held it fast. Then she turned round as quick as lightning, and, laughing all over her face, grasped him firmly round the body with both hands.
It was a harmless merry embrace, a trick of the game--the girl did not wish to be caught, she wanted to pretend that she had been the captor--it was quite a childish innocent embrace, but Käte reddened. She frowned: hardly had she turned her back, when the girl from the street showed herself.
And the mother went into the garden again with a feeling of hatred towards the girl who, in spite of her youth, already endeavoured to attract her boy.
If Käte had thought she would earn her boy's boisterous gratitude that evening after the children had gone home, loaded with Easter eggs and having had plenty to eat, she was disappointed. Wolfgang did not say a word.
She had to ask him: "Well, was it nice?"
"Hm."
That might just as well mean yes as no. But she learnt that it had meant no when she bade him goodnight. It was his father's wish that he should kiss her hand; he did so that evening as usual with an awkward, already so thoroughly boyish, somewhat clumsy gesture. His dark smooth head bent before her for a moment-- only a short moment--his lips just brushed her hand. There was no pressure in the kiss, no warmth.
"Haven't you enjoyed yourself at all?" She could not help it, she had to ask once more. And he, who was candid, said straight out:
"You always came just when it was nice."