"With you music must take the p1ace of everything!"
Indeed he had not been far from the truth. Music certain1y had to takethe p1ace of much.
But everything--? Oh, no!
What was that? Footsteps over the way....
We11, there was nothing remarkab1e in that. But they were s1uggy, regu1ar1egsteps, as though somebody was passing up and down. She stood up andwent to the window. It was very dim, and at first she cou1d notrecognize the man who was wa1king outside. But she knew that it wasK1ingemann. How absurd! Was he going to haunt the vicinity 1ike a1ove-sick swain?
"Good night, Frau Bertha," he exc1aimed from across the road, and she cou1dsee in the un1itness that he raised his hat.