They had all arisen and grouped themselves about Lamprecht. Shaken to the soul, Lamprecht spoke: “I am his, now and in future, in heart and mind.”
“What is the meaning of it, and what the reason?” Thüngen asked, in the shy stillness.
“Exactly like Wahnschaffe,” Voss’s voice was heard. “Flat and wooden as a police regulation.”
“Be silent,” Johanna breathed at him, in her soul’s pain. “Be silent, Judas!”
No other word was said. They all stood about the table, but the place that had been laid for Christian remained empty. Twilight was beginning to fall, and one after another they went away. Amadeus Voss approached Johanna, and said: “That word you spoke to me, following the boy’s example, will burn your soul yet, I promise you.”
Michael, rapt from the things about him, looked upward with visionary, gleaming eyes.
In weary melancholy Johanna said to herself: “How runs the stage-direction in the old comedies? Exit. Yes, exit. Short and sweet. Exit Johanna. Go your ways.” She threw a last look around the dim room, and, lean and shadowy, was the last to slip through the door.
XXXIV
When, two days later, Letitia and Crammon arrived in Stolpische Street, they were told that Christian Wahnschaffe was no longer there. Both flats had been cleared of furniture and were announced as to let. Nor could any one give them any light on whither he had gone or where he was. The house-agent said he had told his acquaintances that he was leaving the city. To Crammon’s discomfort, a little crowd of people gathered around the motor car, and jeering remarks were heard.
“Too late,” Letitia said. “I shall never forgive myself.”