for her, too, because I felt that she was fond of me and I of her. We made plans for the future, but we saw no escape from the present, for duty bound her to that house and to that life. . .
About three o'clock in the morning, somebody knocked on the match-wood wall of the room and whispered: "Are you asleep, Vlasta?" It was her friend. Vlasta opened the door and let her in. Valerie, a stout girl, introduced herself to me ceremoniously, gave me her hand, and sat down wearily upon the bed. . . Valerie propped her head in her hand and softly lamented: "How can I get away from here. . . how can I get away from here?" "You," remarked Valerie, "only owe fifty gulden . . but I've got a hundred and twenty against me. . ." "Yes, fifty gulden, but where am I to get them from?" "Don't shout, Vlasta,”’ said Valerie, soothingly, "we'll get something together for you. I've got seven gulden, Elsa has three . . ." and she recounted a whole string of poetical names with a complete total of thirty-five gulden.
"T will get together the rest," I announced.
"Now let's celebrate the occasion," suggested Valerie, and from her room she brought in a bottle of wine and seven gulden, wrapped up in a handkerchief, which she gave to Vlasta. They kissed each other; then we drank, got into a festive mood and made plans. Valerie knew of an office where they provided situations. Vlasta
