grateful to her. And that was the good that would rise.

She folded her hands over the common paper on which the evidence was
written, and quivering sighs escaped from her breast that were like
prayers. O God, help me! O God, help me!

But if he did not understand her property, if she did not find the
words that must be found? If she should lose him thereby? She was
overcome with terror, she turned pale, and stretched out her hands
gropingly like one who requires a support. But she remained erect. Then
rather lose him than that he should be lost.

For--and tears such as she had not been able to weep for a long,
long time, dropped from her eyes and relieved her--she still loved him,
after all, loved him more than she had considered possible.

So she waited for him. And even if she had to wait until dawn and if
he came home drunk again--more drunk than the first time--she would
still wait for him. She must tell him that day. She was burning to tell
him.

Paul Schlieben had gone to bed long ago. He was vexed with his wife,
had only stuck his head into the room and given a little nod: "Good
night," and gone upstairs. But she walked up and down the room
downstairs with slow steps. That tired her physically, but gave her
mind rest and thereby strength.

When she went to meet Wolfgang in the hall on hearing him close the
door, her delicate figure looked as though it had grown, it was so
straight and erect. The house slept with all in it, only he and she
were still awake. They were never so alone, so undisturbed nowadays.
The time had come.

And she held out her hand to him, which she would not have done
on any other occasion had he come so late--thank God, he was not
drunk!--and approached her face to his and kissed him on the cheek:
"Good evening, my son."

He was no doubt somewhat taken aback at this reception, but his
sunken eyes with the black lines under them looked past her
indifferently.

He was terribly tired--one could see--or was he ill? But all that
would soon be better now. Kate seized hold of his hand once more full
of the joyful hope that had been awakened in her, and drew him after
her into her room.

He allowed himself to be drawn without resisting, he only asked with
a yawn: "What's the matter?"

"I must tell you something." And then quickly, as though he
might escape her or she might lose courage, she added: "Something
important--that concerns you your that concerns your--your birth."

What w