'No, he is not,' she retorted; 'and if he were, we have no baggages here.' And again she tried to shut the door, but I prevented her.
'Where is he?' I asked sternly.
'He is at morning drill, if you must know,' she snapped; 'and his two sons. Now, will you let me shut my door? Or must I cry out?'
'Nonsense, mother!' I said. 'Who is in the house besides yourself?'
'What is that to you?' she replied, breathing short.
'I have told you,' I said, trying to control my anger. 'I----'
But, quick as lightning, the door slammed to and cut me short. I had thoughtlessly moved my foot. I heard the woman chuckle and go slipshod down the passage, and though I knocked again in a rage, the door remained closed.
I fell back and looked at the house. An elderly man in a grave, sober dress was passing, among others, and I caught his eye.
'Whose house is that?' I asked him.
'Herr Krapp's,' he answered.