She looked at him calmly and said:  “Yes, and tomorrow I’ll sing again.  I don’t know why I shouldn’t.”

He got up noisily from his chair and walked up and down with heavy steps.  He wanted to intimidate her.  She rose quietly, and stood there as if expecting an attack that she did not fear.  He stepped close to her, laughed hoarsely and made a gesture which he intended to frighten her into stepping back.  She did not do so.  But the crimson of hurt feelings spread over her cheeks.  She had grown keen-sighted, distrustful of her husband.  She knew that he had her and Apollonius watched.

“And did he tell you nothing more?” she asked.  “Who?” shouted Fritz.  He raised his shoulders and thought he looked like the old man in the blue coat.  His wife did not answer.

Presently she said softly, “I have come to be at peace with myself,” and this was written so brightly in her eyes that the man began to walk up and down again in order not to have to look at them.  “I am at peace with myself.  The thoughts came to me; I was not to blame for that, and I did not call them into my mind.  I did not know they were evil.  Then I fought with them and I will not tire as long as I live.  In my soul I went to my dear mother’s bed where she died, and I saw her lying there and laid three fingers on her heart.  I promised her that I will do and suffer nothing dishonorable and I begged her with tears to help me not to do or suffer anything dishonorable.  I promised and begged until all my fear had gone away, and I knew that I was an honorable woman and would remain an honorable woman.  And no one may despise me.  Whatever you may do to me, I am not afraid and will not defend myself.  But you shall not do anything to the child.  You do not know how strong I am and what I can do.  I will not have it; that I tell you.”

His glance passed fearfully by the slender figure without touching her pale, beautiful countenance; he knew that an angel stood there and threatened him.  Oh, he realized, he felt how strong she was; he felt how powerfully the resolution of an honest heart protects.  But only against him!  His weakness made him feel that.  He felt that no one who had the power of belief could fail to believe her.  He had gambled away this right in the crooked game.  He would have had to believe her, if he had not known that what must come, would come.  Not she nor any one could prevent it.  He had fallen into the hands of the spirit of his guilt, the thought of retribution, which drove him irresistibly to bring about what he wished to prevent; the long steady habit of thinking this thought had buried him too deep.  Hope and trust were alien to the thought; hate was more akin to it.  And it was hate that he called to his aid.—­Outside the workman’s feet shuffled on the sanded floor of the hall.  The house was safe from thieves:  he could leave it again.

Fritz Nettenmair was as jovial in the tavern that night as he could possibly be.  His flatterers were thirsty, and pleased with his condescension.  He drank, pushed the guests’ hats down over their ears, performed many another tender caress with his stick and his hand, and laughed admiringly at them as brilliant jokes.  He did everything to forget himself; but he did not succeed.