“One moment, one moment,” she called, dragging on her stockings.
“Bina, tell Anna to go to the Frau—but quickly. I must ride for the nurse.”
“Yes, yes!” she cried. “Has it come?”
But he had gone, and she ran over to Anna and shook her by the shoulder.
“The Frau—the baby—Herr Lehmann for the nurse,” she stuttered.
“Name of God!” said Anna, flinging herself out of bed.
No complaints to-day. Importance—enthusiasm in Anna’s whole bearing.
“You run downstairs and light the oven. Put on a pan of water”—speaking to an imaginary sufferer as she fastened her blouse—“Yes, yes, I know—we must be worse before we are better—I’m coming—patience.”
It was dark all that day. Lights were turned on immediately the café opened, and business was very brisk. Anna, turned out of the Frau’s room by the nurse, refused to work, and sat in a corner nursing herself, listening to sounds overhead. Hans was more sympathetic than Sabina. He also forsook work, and stood by the window, picking his nose.
“But why must I do everything?” said Sabina, washing glasses. “I can’t help the Frau; she oughtn’t to take such a time about it.”