I shall go and take a bath.«

Opposite to me was the brownest woman I have ever seen, lying on her back, her arms clasped over her head.

»How long have you been here to-day?« she was asked.

»Oh, I spend the day here now,« she answered. »I am making my own ›cure,‹ and living entirely on raw vegetables and nuts, and each day I feel my spirit is stronger and purer. After all, what can you expect? The majority of us are walking about with pig corpuscles and oxen fragments in our brain. The wonder is the world is as good as it is. Now I live on the simple, provided food« – she pointed to a little bag beside her – »a lettuce, a carrot, a potato, and some nuts are ample, rational nourishment. I wash them under the tap and eat them raw, just as they come from the harmless earth – fresh and uncontaminated.«

»Do you take nothing else all day?« I cried.

»Water. And perhaps a banana if I wake in the night.« She turned round and leaned on one elbow. »You overeat yourself dreadfully,« she said; »shamelessly! How can you expect the Flame of the Spirit to burn brightly under layers of superfluous flesh?«

I wished she would not stare at me, and thought of going to look at my watch again when a little girl wearing a string of coral beads joined us.

»The poor Frau Hauptmann cannot join us to-day,« she said; »she has come out in spots all over on account of her nerves. She was very excited yesterday after having written two postcards.«

»A delicate woman,« volunteered the Hungarian, »but pleasant. Fancy, she has a separate plate for each of her front teeth! But she has no right to let her daughters wear such short sailor suits. They sit about on benches, crossing their legs in a most shameless manner. What are you going to do this afternoon, Fräulein Anna?«

»Oh,« said the Coral Necklace, »the Herr Oberleutnant has asked me to go with him to Landsdorf. He must buy some eggs there to take home to his mother. He saves a penny on eight eggs by knowing the right peasants to bargain with.«

»Are you an American?« said the Vegetable Lady, turning to me.

»No.«

»Then you are an Englishwoman?«

»Well, hardly –«

»You must be one of the two; you cannot help it. I have seen you walking alone several times. You wear your –«

I got up and climbed on to the swing. The air was sweet and cool, rushing past my body. Above, white clouds trailed delicately through the blue sky. From the pine forest streamed a wild perfume, the branches swayed together, rhythmically, sonorously. I felt so light and free and happy – so childish! I wanted to poke my tongue out at the circle on the grass, who, drawing close together, were whispering meaningly.

»Perhaps you do not know,« cried a voice from one of the cells, »to swing is very upsetting for the stomach? A friend of mine could keep nothing down for three weeks after exciting herself so.«

I went to the bath shelter and was hosed.

As I dressed, someone tapped on the wall.

»Do you know,« said a voice, »there is a man who lives in the Luft Bad next door? He buries himself up to the armpits in mud and refuses to believe in the Trinity.«

The umbrellas are the saving grace of the Luft Bad. Now, when I go, I take my husband's ›storm‹ gamp and sit in a corner, hiding behind it.

Not that I am in the least ashamed of my legs.

 

 

A Birthday

Andreas Binzer woke slowly. He turned over on the narrow bed and stretched himself – yawned – opening his mouth as widely as possible and bringing his teeth together afterwards with a sharp ›click.‹ The sound of that click fascinated him; he repeated it quickly several times, with a snapping movement of the jaws. What teeth! he thought. Sound as a bell, every man jack of them. Never had one out, never had one stopped. That comes of no tomfoolery in eating, and a good regular brushing night and morning. He raised himself on his left elbow and waved his right arm over the side of the bed to feel for the chair where he put his watch and chain overnight. No chair was there – of course, he'd forgotten, there wasn't a chair in this wretched spare room. Had to put the confounded thing under his pillow. »Half-past eight, Sunday, breakfast at nine – time for the bath« – his brain ticked to the watch.