"Go away? Why?" I asked.
"What have you done; what have you done! This fire, this fire!"
"What about the fire?"
"You have been seen! In the quarry -- -- in the forest -- -- in the field -- -- and yesterday, also by the house, before it burnt down!"
This was really horrible, nothing less than horrible!
"Mo -- -- ther! Mo -- -- ther!" I stuttered. "You wouldn't believe that -- -- -- "
"Yes, I believe it; I have to believe it, and father, too", she interrupted me. "Everybody is saying it!"
She said this hastily. She did not cry, and she did not whine; she was so strong when she had to bear a burden on her soul. She continued without catching a breath:
"For God's sake, don't let them catch you, most of all not here with us in the house! Go, go! Before the people wake up and see you! I mustn't say that you've been here; I mustn't know where you are; I mustn't see you any more! So go, go! When it has come under the statute of limitations, you'll come back!"
She quietly rushed back into the bedroom, without having touched me and without waiting for another word from me. I was alone and grabbed my head with both hands. There, I felt so very clearly this thick layer of clay and chaff. This person standing there, this wasn't me, or was it? Him, in whom even his own mother did not believe any more? Who was this fellow, who looked like a tramp in his dirty, wrinkled clothes? Get him out of her, just out! Be gone, be gone!