ow appeared again, and as no
one can help me on the track--for I suppose he has not used his real
name again in the city--"

"But why do you come to me? Who told you--?"

"Some one who means well toward you and deeply regrets all that has
occurred."

"I know whom you mean: Frau Valentin. Ha! ha!" she exclaimed, with a
sudden change of tone, "so it is she! And she means well toward me! Why
yes, as she understands it, so she does! When I went to her again and
wanted to work--for I thought she would surely receive me, though old
acquaintances would have nothing more to do with me--I was met with
only a shrug of the shoulders and a stern face; she was very sorry, but
she couldn't give her other seamstresses such an example--then a few
thalers were pressed into my hand and a recommendation to some house of
correction. First I wept--then laughed, as I always laugh now when I
hear that these religious people mean well toward us. Go back again and
tell her--"

"Pray, Fraeulein," he interrupted, "let's keep to the point. That wolf
in the sheep's clothing of humility, that vender of souls, who treated
you so shamefully--"

"I'll neither see nor hear anything of him!" she exclaimed violently.
"I'd rather die, than be compelled to meet this man but for whom I--but
pshaw, it's not worth while to get angry about it. I was a simple
child, I believed everything I was told, now I no longer believe in
anything, neither in heaven nor in hell, only in the little space here
on earth, where I'll not allow my peace to be destroyed. Excuse me,
sir, for receiving you so uncourteously but I'm not yet dressed and am
going to Elysium--a concert and ball--we can't be young but once. If
you want to know where the Herr Candidat lives--he no longer calls
himself Lorinser, but has taken the name of Moser--there's his card, on
which he wrote his address. He said his first visit was to me, that he
still loved me and would prove it and provide for me. But as I said
before, I'd rather jump out of the window than have anything more to do
with the abominable scoundrel. Perhaps"--and she lowered her voice a
moment--"perhaps there's some truth in the tales about the other world
and the last judgment. But if I'm condemned, then I'll open my mouth
and tell what I know; what I was, and what I have become, and through
whom. Here, sir, here's the card, and now--"

She opened the door, bowed with an easy grace, and took leave of Mohr,
who fluent of speech as