remained in the court, which he surveyed discontentedly, as
the women and children slowly retired. Spiele, the tailor's daughter,
suspected with her sensitive instinct that he was eager to express some
opinion; so she busied herself with her wheel. When she thought it took
him too long to say something, she turned around to bid him good-by.
Then he shrugged his shoulders and said he would not stay on this job.
He had expected to find zealous proletaires who hated capital and
fought for freedom, and he had found that everything was very well
arranged and trained to carry out the designs of capital. Everything
was after all a humbug. Whenever he was dissatisfied, he made a wry
mouth, which amused Spiele. But she consoled him. What he had seen that
morning was only work-hours on a week-day. After all one had to live,
and a small tree was better than none at all for purposes of shade. He
should inform himself about the organization; workingmen were wont to
awake at nights like bats. As far as she knew, plenty of mosquitoes
were swarming about at times. Then she nodded pleasantly, mounted her
wheel and rode off.

Victor looked after her in surprise. He noticed her low black shoe and
the slender instep showing from beneath the skirt as she worked the
pedal. She wore thin black stockings, which in some way suddenly
impressed the Swiss youth. Her bare blond head shone brightly as it
disappeared through the gate into the outer court. He remembered that
she had no children; that, too, struck him and made him think. Why had
she no children? So that was humbug, too, like everything else. All
life was humbug. The long one was also a humbug. He owed his wife
children, and he only nursed himself; even now he was lying asleep in
the shed. Victor despised him; he did not deserve such a woman; she was
far too good for this wretched toil. That she should come every day on
her wheel to bring the lunch and stand at the door in the crowd was
unendurable to him. Good heavens! There was nothing for it but to kill
all that were responsible for this state of things, beginning from
above with the thrones and the gilded armchairs, until the people
should come into their own. But the wife of Hoeflinger had impressed him
today. She seemed to make fun of this life; that made him think. He
concluded that this childless wife deserved more intimate study.
Everything else could go to hell. When the siren called him back to the
idol, he held his head mor