JUST DREAM

Chapter 7

He had had no relations with a woman of this sort since he had been a student at the Gymnasium. Was the attraction this girl had for him a sign that he was suddenly reverting to adolescence? He recalled a casual acquaintance, a smart young man, who was supposed to be extremely successful with women. Once while Fridolin was a student he had been sitting with him in an all-night cafe, after a ball. When the young man proposed to leave with one of the regular girls of the place, Fridolin looked at him in surprise. Thereupon he answered: "After all, it's the most convenient way— and they aren't by any means the worst." "What's your name?" Fridolin asked the girl. "Well, what do you think? Mizzi, of course." She unlocked the house-door, stepped into the hallway and waited for Fridolin to follow her. "Come on," she said when he hesitated. He stepped in beside her, the door closed behind him, she locked it, lit a wax candle and went ahead, lighting the way.—Am I mad? he asked himself. Of course I shall have nothing to do with her. An oil-lamp was burning in her room, and she turned it up. It was a fairly pleasant place and neatly kept. At any rate, it smelled fresher than Marianne's home, for instance. But then, of course, no old man had been lying ill there for months. The girl smiled, and without forwardness approached Fridolin who gently kept her at a distance. She pointed to a rocking-chair into which he was glad to drop. "You must be very tired," she remarked. He nodded. Undressing without haste, she continued: "Well, no wonder, with all the things a man like you has to do in the course of a day. We have an easier time of it."

He noticed that her lips were not painted, as he had thought, but were a natural red, and he complimented her on that. "But why should I rouge?" she inquired. "How old do you think I am?" "Twenty?" Fridolin ventured. "Seventeen," she said, and sat on his lap, putting her arms around his neck like a child. Who in the world would suspect that I'm here in this room at this moment? Fridolin thought. I'd never have thought it possible an hour or even ten minutes ago. And— why? Why am I here? Her lips were seeking his, but he drew back his head. She looked at him with sad surprise and slipped down from his lap. He was sorry, for he had felt much comforting tenderness in her embrace. She took a red dressing-gown which was hanging over the foot of the open bed, slipped into it and folded her arms over her breast so that her entire body was concealed. "Does this suit you better?" she asked without mockery, almost timidly, as though making an effort to understand him. He hardly knew what to answer. "You're right," he said. "I am really tired, and I find it very pleasant sitting here in the rocking-chair and simply listening to you. You have such a nice gentle voice. Just talk to me." She sat down on the couch and shook her head. "You're simply afraid," she said softly —and then to herself in a barely audible voice: "It's too bad." These last words made the blood race through his veins. He walked over to her, longing to touch her, and declared that he trusted her implicitly and saying so he spoke the truth. He put his arms around her and wooed her like a sweetheart, like a beloved woman, but she resisted, until he felt ashamed and finally gave it up. She explained: "You never can tell, some time or other it's bound to get out. It's quite right of you to be afraid. If something should happen, you would curse me." She was so positive in refusing the banknotes which he offered her that he did not insist. She put a

little blue woolen shawl about her shoulders, lit a candle to light him downstairs, went down with him and unlocked the door. "I'm not going out any more tonight," she said. He took her hand and involuntarily kissed it. She looked up to him astonished, almost frightened. Then she laughed, embarrassed and happy. "Just as if I were a young lady," she said. The door closed behind Fridolin and he quickly made a mental note of the street number, so as to be able to send the poor little thing some wine and cakes the following day.