like to hear her
relate them.

Annele, from the time of her getting up in the morning to her going to
bed at night, was always neatly and prettily dressed, and liked to have
Lenz often praise her for it; but he had a trick, which seemed to her
foolish and tiresome, of repeating the same thing in the same words
hundreds and hundreds of times, with the impression every time that it
was an idea he had never thought of before. His habits of mind were
somewhat like those of external nature, which gives an ever new
freshness to the same garment; or, like those of his handiwork, which
require what has been done a hundred times before to be labored over
again with equal pleasure and exactness. Annele wanted Lenz to keep
himself always nicely dressed as she did; but he bestowed too much
attention on his work to have any thought left for his person.

Lenz, in the morning, could hardly speak a word. It took some time for
his faculties to wake up. He would dream with his eyes open, even over
his work, and never became fully aroused till quite into the day.
Annele, on the contrary, the moment she opened her eyes, was like a
soldier at his post, armed and equipped. She attacked the day's work
with animation, and hated all half and half states of body and mind.
Always neat and nimble, as became a landlord's daughter, she had
everything, even to a dish of chat, in readiness for guests, come at
what hour of the morning they would. At the bustle she made Lenz often
raised his eyes to his mother's picture, as if to say, Don't let your
calmness be ruffled; this snapping of whips is her delight.

If Annele watched him at his work, he became infected with her
disquiet, turned over and over some piece he had just finished, or was
finishing, feeling her impatient look upon him all the while, hearing
her dissatisfied expressions at his slowness, and growing himself
impatient and dissatisfied. It was an unwholesome companionship.

Little William throve excellently on the Morgenhalde, and when soon a
little sister was running about with him, the house was as noisy as if
the wild huntsman and his train were driving through it. If Lenz
ventured to complain of the uproar, Annele answered sharply: "To have
quiet a man needs to be rich, and live in a castle, where the princes
can be quartered in a separate wing."

"I am not rich," answered Lenz, smiling at the rebuke, yet smarting
under it.

Only in the same atmosphere or at an equal distance