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"I am always surprised, Blasi," said Judith, looking up from her work, "to see you in company with a fellow, who steals your money from your pockets, before you know it is there. I would not have anything to do with such a one." "What? who?" asked Blasi, fumbling in his empty pockets. "Who picks my pockets? Who are you talking about? I know I did have some; I wish you would tell me the thief."
When Jost joined them, Veronica took care that Blasi should walk between herself and the intruder, and she neither said a word herself, nor seemed to hear what the others were saying. Jost grew pale with suppressed rage. Whenever at other times he met Blasi anywhere, he threw contemptuous words at him. If occasionally Blasi stepped into the Rehbock for a glass of beer, Jost would cry out,
"I don't see the joke," said Blasi crossly. "Dietrich has run away; she avoids Jost as if he were a nettle, and who else is there? Who is there for her to call upon if she wants help, hey?" Judith was still snickering over the news. "Now it's your turn," said Blasi, "tell me what it is that you're so pleased about."
One evening in January, Judith met Blasi as he was coming round the corner of Gertrude's house, where he was always at work till it was time to go for Veronica. "What makes you go about laughing all the time, and looking as if you had been winning a game?" asked Judith. "That's exactly what I was going to ask you," retorted Blasi, "What have you got to laugh about?"
When Blasi went to meet her that evening, he was so full of his news that he could scarcely wait to greet her, before beginning to tell it; but he was so startled by her looks that instead, he stopped short, and exclaimed, "What is the matter? Are you ill? Sit down and rest, in the hut, here."
For if Jost, as he complained, had to sit and work all the morning, while others did as they pleased, yet he made enough money by his work to allow him to spend all his afternoons at the Rehbock, and remain, drinking one glass after another, all through the evening, and late into the night. Blasi seated himself by his side, and opened his case very skilfully.
"Well, this was the one drop wanting!" said Judith, and shouldering her jug she went off, snorting with anger, in such a rage that Blasi stood looking after her in stupid amazement, and muttered, "I wonder if she wants to get him, too!" Judith walked along, talking aloud to herself, "Yes, she is! she is! she is capable of anything when she is angry!"
A moment ago she looked all broken-down, and as if she could be blown out with a puff of wind, and now she looks bright and strong as the sun at noon-day." "Repeat word for word what you read in the letter, please, Blasi," and he told her all that he could remember. It did not take long.
The woman was an aunt of Jost's, and had known better days when her husband was alive; but now she had fallen into poverty, and had grown sour and bitter, and would have nothing to do with the rest of the world. Blasi worked his way to her hut, through the deep, pathless snow. As he approached the door, he took the letter from his pocket, and looked at the address.
When Blasi and Judith are alone together, he likes to talk over old times, and he often reminds her that he had fully made up his mind to marry Veronica himself; and he always winds up with, "I want you to understand that I would never have given her up to any one else; but an old friend like Dietrich, you know; of course it's a very different thing with Dietrich." And Judith, laughing, answers,
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