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the fortune hunter(闯世界的人)-第10部分

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now the tone of the master。            All the sentiment was out of it and all the 

hardness in it。 

     Lena felt the change without understanding it。              ‘‘I bet you; pa'll make 

you wish you'd taken my advice;'' she said sullenly。 

     But Feuerstein led her home。           They went up stairs where Mrs。 Ganser 

was seated; looking stupidly at a new bonnet as she turned it slowly round 

on one of her cushion…like hands。            Feuerstein went to her and kissed her 

on the hang of her cheek。         ‘‘Mother!'' he said in a deep; moving voice。 

     Mrs。 Ganser blinked and looked helplessly at Lena。 

     ‘‘I'm married; ma;'' explained Lena。 

     ‘‘It's Mr。 Feuerstein。''     And she gave her silly laugh。 

     Mrs。 Ganser grew slowly pale。             ‘‘Your father;'' she at last succeeded 

in   articulating。    ‘‘Ach!''    She   lifted   her   arm;   thick   as   a   piano   leg;   and 

resumed the study of her new bonnet。 

     ‘‘Won't   you   welcome   me;   mother?''   asked   Feuerstein;   his   tone   and 

attitude dignified appeal。 

     Mrs。 Ganser shook her huge head vaguely。                 ‘‘See Peter;'' was all she 

said。 

     They went down stairs and waited; Lena silent; Feuerstein pacing the 

room and rehearsing; now aloud; now to himself; the scene he would enact 

with his father…in…law。        Peter was in a frightful humor that evening。             His 

only   boy;   who   spent   his   mornings   in   sleep;   his   afternoons   in   speeding 

horses   and   his   evenings   in   carousal;   had   come   down   upon   him   for   ten 

thousand dollars to settle a gambling debt。             Peter was willing that his son 

should be a gentleman and should conduct himself like one。                     But he had 

worked   too   hard   for   his   money  not   to   wince   as   a   plain   man   at   what   he 

endured   and   even   courted   as   a   seeker   after   position   for   the   house   of 

Ganser。      He had hoped to be free to vent his ill…humor at home。                 He was 

therefore irritated by the discovery that an outsider was there to check him。 

As he came in he gave Feuerstein a look which said plainly: 



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     ‘‘And who are you; and how long are you going to intrude yourself?'' 

     But Feuerstein; absorbed in the role he had so carefully thought out; 

did not note his unconscious father…in…law's face。                He extended both his 

hands   and   advanced   grandly   upon   fat;   round   Peter。        ‘‘My   father!''   he 

exclaimed       in  his   classic   German。      ‘‘Forgive      my    unseemly     haste   in 

plucking     without    your    permission     the  beautiful    flower   I  found    within 

reach。'' 

     Peter stepped back and gave a hoarse grunt of astonishment。                    His red 

face became redder as he glared; first at Feuerstein; then at Lena。                 ‘‘What 

lunatic is this you've got here; daughter?'' he demanded。 

     ‘‘My father!'' repeated Feuerstein; drawing Lena to him。 

     Ganser's     mouth     opened     and   shut   slowly      several    times    and   his 

whiskers bristled。       ‘‘Is this fellow telling the truth?'' he asked Lena in a 

tone that made her shiver and shrink away from her husband。 

     She began to cry。       ‘‘He made me do it; pa;'' she whined。            ‘‘II'' 

     ‘‘Go    to   your   mother;''   shouted     Ganser;    pointing    his  pudgy     finger 

tremulously toward the door。           ‘‘Move!'' 

     Lena;   drying   her   eyes   with   her   sleeve;   fled。   Feuerstein   became   a 

sickly   white。     When   she   had   disappeared;   Ganser   looked   at   him   with 

cruel   little   eyes   that   sparkled。  Feuerstein   quailed。       It   was   full   half   a 

minute  before  Ganser  spoke。          Then   he   went   up to   Feuerstein;  stood  on 

tiptoe and; waving his arms frantically above his head; yelled into his face 

‘‘Rindsvieh!''   as   contemptuous   an   insult   as   one   German   can   fling   at 

another。 

     ‘‘She is my lawful wife;'' said Feuerstein with an attempt at his pose。 

     ‘‘Get the house ausquick!aus! gleich!Lump!I call the police!'' 

     ‘‘I demand my wife!'' exclaimed Feuerstein。 

     Ganser ran to the front door and opened it。             ‘‘Out!'' he shrieked。       ‘‘If 

you   don't;   I   have   you   taken   in   when   the   police   come   the   block   down。 

This is my house!        Rindsvieh!'' 

     Feuerstein caught up his soft hat from the hall table and hurried out。 

As he passed; Ganser tried to kick him but failed ludicrously because his 

short; thick leg would not reach。            At the bottom of the steps Feuerstein 



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turned and waved his fists wildly。          Ganser waved his fists at Feuerstein 

and;  shaking his   head   so   violently  that his   hanging   cheeks   flapped   back 

and forth; bellowed: 

     ‘‘Rindsvieh! Dreck!'' 

     Then he rushed in and slammed the door。 



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                                CHAPTER V 



                        A SENSITIVE SOUL SEEKS SALVE 

     As Mr。 Feuerstein left Hilda on the previous Sunday night he promised 

to   meet   her   in   Tompkins   Square   the   next   eveningat   the   band   concert。 

She walked up and down with Sophie; her spirits gradually sinking after 

half…past   eight   and   a   feeling   of   impending   misfortune   settling   in   close。 

She was not conscious of the music; though the second part of the program 

contained      the   selections    from    Wagner     which     she   loved    best。   She 

feverishly     searched     the   crowd     and   the   half…darkness     beyond。      She 

imagined      that   every   approaching      tall  man    was   her   lover。   With     the 

frankness   to   which   she   had   been   bred   she   made   no   concealment   of   her 

heart…sick anxiety。 

     ‘‘He   may   have   to   be   at   the   theater;''   said   Sophie;   herself   extremely 

uneasy。 Partly through shrewdness; partly through her natural suspicion of 

strangers; she felt that Mr。 Feuerstein; upon whom she was building; was 

not a rock。 

     ‘‘No;'' replied Hilda。       ‘‘He told me he wouldn't be at the theater; but 

would surely come here。''          The fact that her lover had said so settled it to 

her mind。 

     They  did   not   leave   the   Square   until   ten   o'clock;   when   it   was   almost 

deserted and most of its throngs of   an hour before were in bed sleeping 

soundly in the content that comes from a life of labor。              And when she did 

get   to   bed   she  lay   awake    for  nearly    an  hour;   tired  though     she  was。 

Without doubt some misfortune had befallen him‘‘He's been hurt or   is 

ill;''   she   decided。  The   next   morning   she   stood   in   the   door   of   the   shop 

watching   for   the   postman   on   his   first   round;   as   he   turned   the   corner   of 

Second Street; she could not restrain herself; but ran to meet him。 

     ‘‘Any letter for me?'' she inquired in a voice that compelled him to feel 

personal guilt in having to say ‘‘No。'' 

     It was a day of mistakes in weights and in making up packages; a day 

of   vain   searching   for   some   comforting   explanation   of   Mr。   Feuerstein's 



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failure    and   silence。    After    supper    Sophie    came    and   they   went    to  the 

Square; keeping to the center of it where the lights were brightest and the 

people fewest。 

     ‘‘I'm   sure   something's   happened;''   said   Sophie。        ‘‘Maybe   Otto   has 

told him a story or has'' 

     ‘‘Nonot Otto。''      Hilda dismissed the suggestion as impossible。                She 

had known Otto too long and too well to entertain for an instant the idea 

that he could be underhanded。            ‘‘There's only one reason he's sick; very 

sicktoo sick to send word。'' 

     ‘‘Let's   go   and   see;''   said   Sophie;   as   if   she   had   not   planned   it   hours 

before。 

     Hilda hesitated。       ‘‘It might look as if I''     She did not finish。 

     ‘‘But   you   needn't   show   yourself;''   replied   Sophie。       ‘‘You   can   wait 

down the street and I'll go up to the door and won't give my name。'' 

     Hilda clasped her arm more tightly about Sophie's waist and they set 

out。    They walked more and more swiftly until toward the last they were 

almost running。        At the 
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