"Yes—that is, no—I've been."
"Ah, you have been to Kunitz to Dr. Kraus?"
"Y—es. I've been there."
"What does he say?"
"That I must always wear a veil."
"Because it looks so bad?"
"I suppose so."
There was a silence. Priscilla lay back in her corner exhausted, and shut her eyes. The mother stared fixedly at her, one hand mechanically stroking Hans-Joachim, the other holding him down.
"When I was a girl," said the mother, so suddenly that Priscilla started, "I had a good deal of trouble with my skin. Therefore my experience on the subject is great. Show me your face, Fräulein—I might be able to tell you what to do to cure it."
"Oh, on no account—on no account whatever," cried Priscilla, sitting up very straight and speaking with extraordinary emphasis. "I couldn't think of it—I really positively couldn't."