Oh, no! She could not endure this shameless insult which they both, as it were, hurled in her face. She racked her brain as to how she could revenge herself on them; but in vain. Most terrible of all was it to feel that though still alive she was virtually dead already, as powerless and helpless as a corpse!
Then the worst happened.
The sergeant-major and his sister-in-law were invited to a fête which the military society, "The Fellow-Soldiers of 1870-1," were arranging in memory of the battle of St. Privat.
The programme included music, theatricals, and dancing. Towards evening a fanfare of trumpets summoned the guests to the festival-play. Even in the garden under the lime-trees the heat of the summer sun had been great, and in the confined space of the overcrowded hall it became unbearably intense. The rows of chairs were placed much too close together, in order to accommodate the large audience. Once seated, it was impossible to move; one remained wedged in between one's neighbours.
Shortly before the curtain was raised, Heppner and Ida discovered two empty chairs. The sergeant-major sat down first. The narrow space then left on the neighbouring chair was far too small for the girl's fully-developed hips.
Consequently his sister-in-law was almost sitting on his knee. He felt the warmth of her blood and her firm limbs through her thin cotton skirt. They were pressed close to one another in the darkened room. Drops of sweat gathered on their brows, and their breath came gaspingly and with difficulty. But, as if by mutual consent, they did not move a limb. They were hearing nothing but the voice of their blood, and in the close contact they could distinctly feel the pulse-beats.
Neither of them took in a word of the play which was being performed on the stage.
At last the singing of the National Anthem announced the end of the piece. The spectators breathed sighs of relief and pushed patiently and slowly through the narrow doors out into the evening air of the garden, wiping and fanning their hot faces with their handkerchiefs.
Ida looked pale, and sank down exhausted on a chair. "I would rather go home," she said.
"Why not?" he agreed, and held out her jacket for her to put on. But the girl took it from his hand and hung it over her arm. A rush as of fire streamed through her body, making her skin prick and tingle.