He bellowed forth the first motif from the “Sonata quasi una fantasia” of Mozart: “Listen to this: Da—dada—da—daddaa! Is it possible to progress beyond that? Don’t let them make a fool of you, my angel. Be honest with yourself. He has hypnotised you. He has turned your unsuspecting heart upside down. Look at me! Are you afraid of me? I will do all in my power for you. Give me your hand. Speak to me!”
The prostitute was obliged to stretch out her arms. He sat down beside her with a solemn ceremoniousness. Then he removed the pin from her hat, and laid the hat tenderly to one side. She had to lean her head on his shoulder.
With that he fell into a dreamy meditation.
XIII
Philippina came up to Gertrude in the living room. Daniel was not at home. Philippina was humming the latest street song, the refrain of which ran as follows:
Drah’ di, Madel, drah’ di,
Morgen kommt der Mahdi.
“There it is,” said Philippina, and threw a ball of yarn on the table.
Gertrude had yielded to the girl’s importunities, and was addressing her now with the familiar “thou” and allowing Philippina to do the same in speaking to her. “We are after all relatives, you know, Gertrude,” said Philippina.
Gertrude was afraid of Philippina; but she had thus far found no means of defending herself against her exaggerated eagerness to help her with the housework. And she felt in Philippina’s presence what she felt in the presence of no one else—a sense of shame at her own condition.
Philippina, in fact, saw something indecent in Gertrude’s pregnancy; when she talked to her she always held her head up and looked into space; her action was quite conspicuous.