t,
stamping his foot, turning from one to the other, sometimes throwing
both his arms together, straight up above his rumpled hair, and keeping
them in that position while he uttered a passage of loud denunciation;
at others folding them tight across his breast--and then he hissed with
indignation, elevating his shoulders and protruding his head. The girl
was crying.

She had not changed her attitude. From her steady eyes that, following
Falk in his retreat, had remained fixed wistfully on the cabin door, the
tears fell rapid, thick, on her hands, on the work in her lap, warm
and gentle like a shower in spring. She wept without grimacing, without
noise--very touching, very quiet, with something more of pity than of
pain in her face, as one weeps in compassion rather than in grief--and
Hermann, before her, declaimed. I caught several times the word
"Mensch," man; and also "Fressen," which last I looked up afterwards
in my dictionary. It means "Devour." Hermann seemed to be requesting an
answer of some sort from her; his whole body swayed. She remained mute
and perfectly still; at last his agitation gained her; she put the palms
of her hands together, her full lips parted, no sound came. His voice
scolded shrilly, his arms went like a windmill--suddenly he shook a
thick fist at her. She burst out into loud sobs. He seemed stupefied.

Mrs. Hermann rushed forward babbling rapidly. The two women fell on each
other's necks, and, with an arm round her niece's waist, she led her
away. Her own eyes were simply streaming, her face was flooded. She
shook her head back at me negatively, I wonder why to this day. The
girl's head dropped heavily on her shoulder. They disappeared.

Then Hermann sat down and stared at the cabin floor.

"We don't know all the circumstances," I ventured to break the silence.
He retorted tartly that he didn't want to know of any. According to his
ideas no circumstances could excuse a crime--and certainly not such
a crime. This was the opinion generally received. The duty of a human
being was to starve. Falk therefore was a beast, an animal; base, low,
vile, despicable, shameless, and deceitful. He had been deceiving him
since last year. He was, however, inclined to think that Falk must
have gone mad quite recently; for no sane person, without necessity,
uselessly, for no earthly reason, and regardless of another's
self-respect and peace of mind, would own to having devoured human
flesh. "Why tell?" he