METROPOLIS wWch lay beside him as though not belonging to him, thrown away, bled wWte. Knuckles knocked raw. . . . shreds of skin...• brownish crusts.... were these his hands? He stared at the ceiling. It was black, as if charred. He stared at the walls; grey, cold walls.... Where was he-? He was tortured by thirst and a ravenous hunger. But worse than the hunger and thirst was the weariness wWch longed for sleep and wWch could not find it. Maria occurred to him...• Maria? ... Maria-? He jerked himself up and stood on sawn-through ankles. His eyes sought for doors: There was one door. He stumbled up to it. The door was closed, was latcbJess, would not open. His brain commanded him: Don't be surprised at anything. , , . Don't let anything startle you.... TWnk. ... Over there, there was a window. It had no frame. It was a pane of glass set into stone. The street lay before it-one of the great streets of the great Metropolis, seething with human beings. The glass window-pane must be very thick. Not the least sound entered the room in which Freder was captive, though the street was so near. Freder's hands fumbled acroSs the pane. A penetrating coldness streamed out of the glass, the smoothness of which was reminiscent of the sucking sharpness of a steel blade. Freder's finger tips glided towards the setting of the pane.... and remained, crooked, hanging in the air, as though bewitched. He saw: Down there. below, Maria was crossing the street.... Leaving the house which· held him captive, she turned her back on him and walked with light, hurried step towards the Maelstrom, which the street was.... Freder's fists smote against the pane. He cried the girl's name. He yelled: "Maria.... I" She must hear him. It was impossible that she did not hear him. Regardless of his raw knuckles he banged with his fists against the pane. But Maria did not hear him. She did not tum her head around. With her gentle but hurried step she submerged her~
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