Book contents
Chapter 8
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 21 February 2024
Summary
Hugo's thoughts proceeded in this direction from that point on, and two weeks before Christmas, when he was once again installed in his own room (something which brought the elder Möhring a degree of satisfaction, since she could not see beyond the present), Hugo was certain that Thilde was the woman who suited him. As much as he believed himself to be a person of aesthetic feeling, and one equipped with latent poetic strengths, he was nonetheless in actuality very modest, almost humble. He had no real faith in his knowledge and abilities. “I’m a useless bread eater,” he had said to Rybinski, who had comforted him with the laughing assertion that “Precisely those people enjoy their food most.” Hugo had accepted that assertion with a certain melancholy. His self-assessment was accurate, and because it was accurate, it was also correct that Thilde suited him. She possessed exactly what he lacked: she was quick, resourceful and practical. He wanted to assure himself of her consent before Christmas. Her consent was certain, of that he had no doubt. He was, after all, a full-bearded son of a mayor— whereas Thilde (this much was clear to him) came from very modest circumstances.
“Fräulein Thilde,” he said, as she brought him tea with sliced ham on his first evening back in his room, “Fräulein Thilde, you are consistently kind to me. Because you believe that everything is still difficult for me, you have already cut my ham in pieces. You have taken care of me and indulged me and have shown me for the first time, in the course of all these weeks, how happy one can be. A loving hand is what one needs most in life. But do first set the tea tray down. And now, give me your dear small hand, for it is a small hand, and cross with me to the window. Look with me at the picture there, that cloud that passes over the moon and is brightened in its passing. One could perhaps interpret this, but even without that, I ask you if I might continue to hold your small hand, for it is a small hand, a long time, my entire life long.”
She did not answer immediately and instead busied herself instead with lowering the window shade.
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- Mathilde Möhring , pp. 36 - 40Publisher: Boydell & BrewerPrint publication year: 2023