. While the music went on
she was afraid to look anybody in the face, and she smiled with a little
nervous tremor round the mouth.

"But, my God," Frau Rupp cried, "they've given that child of Theresa's
a piece of sausage. It's to keep her quiet. There's going to be a
presentation now--your man has to speak."

Frau Brechenmacher sat up stiffly. The music ceased, and the dancers
took their places again at the tables.

Herr Brechenmacher alone remained standing--he held in his hands a big
silver coffee-pot. Everybody laughed at his speech, except the Frau;
everybody roared at his grimaces, and at the way he carried the
coffee-pot to the bridal pair, as if it were a baby he was holding.

She lifted the lid, peeped in, then shut it down with a little scream
and sat biting her lips. The bridegroom wrenched the pot away from her
and drew forth a baby's bottle and two little cradles holding china
dolls. As he dandled these treasures before Theresa the hot room seemed
to heave and sway with laughter.

Frau Brechenmacher did not think it funny. She stared round at the
laughing faces, and suddenly they all seemed strange to her. She wanted
to go home and never come out again. She imagined that all these people
were laughing at her, more people than there were in the room even--all
laughing at her because they were so much stronger than she was.

... They walked home in silence. Herr Brechenmacher strode ahead, she
stumbled after him. White and forsaken lay the road from the railway
station to their house--a cold rush of wind blew her hood from her face,
and suddenly she remembered how they had come home together the first
night. Now they had five babies and twice as much money; BUT--

"Na, what is it all for?" she muttered, and not until she had reached
home, and prepared a little supper of meat and bread for her man did she
stop asking herself that silly question.

Herr Brechenmacher broke the bread into his plate, smeared it round with
his fork and chewed greedily.

"Good?" she asked, leaning her arms on the table and pillowing her
breast against them.

"But fine!"

He took a piece of the crumb, wiped it round his plate edge, and held it
up to her mouth. She shook her head.

"Not hungry," she said.

"But it is one of the best pieces, and full of the fat."

He cleared the plate; then pulled off his boots and flung them into a
corner.

"Not much of a wedding," he said, stretching out his feet and wriggling
his