Minna opened the door for me. She gave me a firm shake of the hand and whispered, "Thank you for coming."
I stepped at once into the sitting-room, hat in hand. The lamp was lit. Stephensen sat talking to Mrs. Jagemann, who was wearing her linsey dress and best cap. It was evident that the piratical suitor sailed under the neutral flag of a visit to the family. She entertained him about the lodgers: "Bad people, Mr. Stephensen! Indeed, we have often wished you back. But, oh my, there is nothing to say against the present one; he is also a painter, that is to say in another way,… he is in the decorative line, you know."
Stephensen had risen. We greeted one another very politely, and I even compelled myself to give him my hand; for, after all, Minna was fond of him, and her feelings should protect him against my dislike. His thin and delicate hand was very cold—the heart perhaps, according to the old saying, was in consequence so much the warmer.
I pressed Mrs. Jagemann's soft and flabby hand, and after a wandering glance round the room I spoke to Minna—
"I thought I had forgotten my pocket-book; it was for that reason"
"But we have just sent it," the mother shouted. "We thought you were sure to miss it."
"Indeed! Then my landlady will keep it for me."
255
