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Updated: May 2, 2025
At once habit impelled Annalise to that which Fritzing's pleadings would never have effected; she scrambled down the ladder, and leaving him still under her window presented herself before her mistress with her usual face of meek respect. "I said tea," said Priscilla very distinctly, looking at her with slightly lifted eyebrows. Annalise curtseyed and disappeared.
"Shall I send Annalise to you, ma'am?" asked Fritzing, standing in the doorway. "What can we do?" asked Priscilla, her eyes fixed on the tips of her shoes in earnest thought. "Come in, Fritzi, and shut the door," she added. "You don't behave a bit like an uncle." Then an idea struck her, and looking up at him with sudden gaiety she said, "Can't we have a hyphen?" "A hyphen?"
"I am no one's slave," cried Annalise, "I am no one's prisoner." "Hark at her! Who said you were? Have I not told you the only two things you are?" "But I am treated as a prisoner, I am treated as a slave," sobbed Annalise. "Unmannerly one, how dare you linger talking follies when your royal mistress is waiting for her tea? Run run! Or must I show you how?"
"I demand my wages, the increased wages that were promised me, and I will go." "And where, Impudence past believing, will you go, in a country whose tongue you most luckily do not understand?" Annalise looked up into Fritzing's furious eyes with the challenge of him who flings down his trump card.
Annalise stared at him a moment then resumed her swaying and her song "Jedermann macht mir die Cour" sang Annalise with redoubled conviction. "No, no, not marks twenty pounds," said Fritzing, interrupting what was to him a most maddening music. "Four hundred marks. As much as many a German girl can only earn by labouring two years you will receive for doing nothing but hold your tongue."
Fritzing would have known it if he had been more used to running away. He did, in his calmer moments, dimly opine it. The plain fact was that Annalise held both him and Priscilla in the hollow of her hand. At this point she had not realized it.
Since when have you become thus greedy for it?" "Give me eight hundred and I will stop." "I will give you six hundred," said Fritzing, fighting for each of his last precious pounds. "Eight." "Six." "I said eight," said Annalise, stopping and looking at him with lifted eye-brows and exactly imitating the distinctness with which the Princess had just said "I said tea." "Six is an enormous sum.
What, of the father of the young man who insulted your Grand Ducal Highness and whom I propose to kill in duel my first leisure moment? Ma'am, there are depths of infamy to which even a desperate man will not descend." Priscilla dug holes in the tablecloth with the point of the pencil. "I can't conceive," she said, "why you gave Annalise all that money. So much."
Annalise closed her lips tightly and shook her head. "My tongue cannot be held for that," she said, beginning to sway again and hum. Adjectives foamed on Fritzing's own, but he kept them back. "Mädchen," he said with the gentleness of a pastor in a confirmation class, "do you not remember that the love of money is the root of all evil? I do not recognize you.
There has been no dinner to-day. There will be, I greatly fear, n o o supp pper." And Annalise gave a loud sob and covered her face with her apron. Then Priscilla saw that if life was to roll along at all it was her shoulder that would have to be put to the wheel. Fritzing's shoulder was evidently not a popular one among the lower classes.
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