Month 86: Pages 138-140

This Month's Installment

    "I can hardly come to it, my time is up."

    There was a pale appearance around her face.

    "I would like to leave behind a little keepsake for you, Miss Hanna," he said, and it was the first time that he called her by her first name.  "Would it be a joy for you if I ordered that book, the history of my regiment, for you?"

    "You could never do a greater thing for me."

    In her words lay her soul, and it spoke to him, melancholic and jubilant at the same time.

    "Then I will order it for you immediately."

    They were very near the house; she remained standing close to the pipewort arbor.

    "I have something else that I would like to say to you, that I must say to you," and again the words came from her lips haltingly and with difficulty.  "You said earlier that in this war there would be only one for you:  victory or dying!"

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    "Quite right.  It is also the title of my book."

    "But something else would be possible."

    "You mean to fall, living, into the hands of the enemy!  No, that will never happen, that is taken care of."

    "One could be wounded."

    "One must also bear that, although it is a much heavier thought than death is."

    "It doesn't need to be a serious wound, it could be a mild one.  But no matter if serious or mild, would you fulfill a great wish for me?"

    He guessed her question:  "You mean, I should then come over there to your military hospital, you wanted to give me an appetite for that already through friendly guidance."

    "That's what I meant, but not over there, but rather here with us in the parsonage.  And you promise it, don't you?"

    "Of course, although, quite frankly, I'd prefer not to make use of your friendly offer."

    A short farewell yet from the pastor's wife, an affectionate word of blessing from the old man.  Then Fritz Warsow rode at the top of his speed over the coarse pavement of Pronitten out into the field.

    Now was it become silent in Rodenburg.  Life in the streets fell silent, the businesses saw only a tired traffic, the inns stood empty, and the houses were closed early.  That was the outer face that the city showed.  Inside, however, there was restless activity.  Dr. Stoltzman, who

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recently received his appointment to mayor, was now quite in his place.

    He gave his orders without any long-winded-ness.  All bureaucratic frills had always been hateful to him.

Commentary/Grammatical Minutiae

Not much to say this month.  This is the end of chapter twenty-seven and the beginning of chapter twenty-eight.