ess that made her trust her. Such
a homely creature was in her eyes not a woman, hardly a human being of
either sex; and with her she felt she could talk just as much as she
pleased, and say anything that came into her head. And since Philippina
never spoke of Daniel in any but a derogatory and spiteful tone,
Dorothea felt perfectly safe on that ground.

She would come into the kitchen, and sit down on a bench and talk: about
a silk dress she had seen for sale; about the fine compliments Court
Councillor Finkeldey had paid her; about the love affairs of these and
the divorce proceedings of those; about Frau Feistelmann's pearls,
remarking that she would give ten years of her life if she also had such
pearls. In fact, the word she used most frequently was "also." She
trembled and shook from head to foot with desires and wishes, low-minded
unrest and lusts that flourish in the dark.

Often she would tell stories of her life in Munich. She told how she
once spent a night with an artist in his studio, just for fun; and how
on another occasion she had gone with an officer to the barracks at
night simply on a wager. She told of all the fine-looking men who ran
after her, and how she dropped them whenever she felt like it. She said
she would let them kiss her sometimes, but that was all; or she would
walk arm in arm with them through the forest, but that was all. She
commented on the fact that in Munich you had to keep an eye out for the
police and observe their hours, otherwise there might be trouble. For
example, a swarthy Italian kept following her once--he was a regular
Conte--and she couldn't make the man go on about his business, and you
know he rushed into her room and held a revolver before her face, and
she screamed, of course she did, until the whole house was awake, and
there was an awful excitement.

When Daniel endeavoured to put a stop to her wastefulness, she went to
Philippina and complained. Philippina encouraged her. "Don't you let him
get away with anything," said she, "let him feel that a woman with your
beauty didn't have to marry a skinflint."

When she began to go with Edmund Hahn, she told Philippina all about it.
"You ought to see him, Philippina," she whispered in a mysterious way.
"He is a regular Don Juan; he can turn the head of any woman." She said
he had been madly in love with her for two years, and now he was going
to gamble for her; but in a very aristocratic and exclusive club, to
which n