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Updated: May 20, 2025
Rudolph Klein had not for a moment believed Anna's story about the watch, and on the day after he discovered it on her wrist he verified his suspicions. During his noon hour he went up-town and, with the confident swagger of a certain type of man who feels himself out of place, entered the jeweler's shop in question.
Which is the same as saying he's crazy." "Who is he?" "Name's Rudolph Klein. He's a sort of relation to the chap that got out. Old man's been sore on him, but I understand he's hanging around the Klein place again." Clayton considered. "I don't remember him. Of course, I can't keep track of the men. We'll get rid of him." Mr. Dunbar eyed him. "That's the best thing you can think of?"
Was it possible that Klein, or men like Klein, old employees and faithful for years, could be reached by the insidious wickedness of Germany? It was incredible. But then the whole situation was incredible; that a peaceful and home-loving people, to all appearances, should suddenly shed the sheep skin of years of dissimulation, and appear as the wolves of the world.
And the vicious circle closed in about him, Natalie and Marion and Anna Klein. And to offset them, only Delight Haverford, at evening prayer in Saint Luke's, and voicing a tiny petition for him, that he might walk straight, that he might find peace, even if that peace should be war. Herman Klein, watch between forefinger and thumb, climbed heavily to Anna's room.
She went in as casually as though she had not put the only happiness of her life away from her. But Clayton Spencer stood on the pavement, watching her in, and all the tragedy of the empty years ahead was in his eyes. Left alone in her untidy room after Graham's abrupt departure, Anna Klein was dazed. She stood where he left her, staring ahead.
Being surrounded by a greatly superior French force under Klein, he contrived to escape by asserting with great earnestness to that general that an armistice had just been concluded.
"Why, where does Hymie Salzman, designer for Sammet Brothers, and Charles Eisenblum, designer for Klinger & Klein, get their idees, Mawruss?" This was purely a rhetorical question, but as Abe paused to heighten the effect of the peroration, Morris undertook to supply an answer. "Them suckers don't get their idees, Abe," he said; "they steal 'em.
They wanted jewelry, and they got past the family with it by pretending it was not real, or that they had bought it out of their allowances. One of Toots' friends was taking a set of silver fox from a man, and she was as straight as a die. Oh, he knew girls, now. The next day he asked Anna Klein: "What would you like for Christmas?"
He only knew his own desperate unhappiness. In the meetings held twice weekly in a hall on Third Street he was reckless, advocating violence constantly. The conservative element watched him uneasily; the others kept an eye on him, for future use. The closing week of the old year found the situation strained in the Klein house.
To make shells to kill them no." "He is determined, Mr. Spencer," said Hutchinson. "I have been arguing with him, but you can't argue with a German." Clayton was uneasily aware of something like sympathy for the man. "I understand how you feel, Klein," he observed. "But of course you know, whether you go or stay, the shells will be made, anyhow." "I know that."
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