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Updated: June 29, 2025
"What was the matter?" she continued, trying to escape from her confusion. Mademoiselle's instant response to her cry at the sight of Pastor Lahmann rang in her ears. She blushed to the soles of her feet.... How could Mademoiselle misunderstand her insane remark? What did she mean? What did she really think of her?
Miriam thought she had never seen anyone look so pale. She was speaking very quickly in German. Pastor Lahmann rose and faced her. Miriam had just grasped the fact that she was taking the French master to task for reading poetry to his pupils and heard Pastor Lahmann slowly and politely enquire of her whether she or he were conducting the lesson when the two voices broke out together.
"Is it?" "Well, it sounds so to us. We Swiss are very democratic." "I think I'm a radical." Pastor Lahmann lifted his chin and laughed softly. "You are a vairy ambitious young lady." "Yes." Pastor Lahmann laughed again. "I, too, am ambitious. I have a good Swiss ambition." Miriam smiled into the mild face. "You have a beautiful English provairb which expresses my ambition."
There was no time to change. She fixed a brooch in the collar to make it come a little higher at the join. Going downstairs she saw Pastor Lahmann hanging up his hat in the hall. His childish eyes came up as her step sounded on the lower flight. Miriam was amazed to see him standing there as though nothing had happened.
"And sensitive to light, too. You were vairy, vairy blonde, even more blonde than you are now, as a child, mademoiselle?" "Na guten Tag, Herr Pastor." Fraulein Pfaff's smiling voice sounded from the little door. Pastor Lahmann stepped back. Miriam was pleased at the thought of being grouped with him in the eyes of Fraulein Pfaff.
They pulled up and Pastor Lahmann dropped the steps and got out. Miriam who was sitting next to the door felt that the long sitting in two rows confronted in the hard afternoon light, bumped and shaken and teased with the crunchings and slitherings of the wheels the grinding and squeaking of the brake, had made them all enemies.
If profuse sweating was produced in the same patients by the high temperature of the hot-air box or the electric-light cabinet, their perspiration, when evaporated and analyzed, was found to contain only small amounts of toxins. Thus Dr. Lahmann proved that: Sweating and the elimination of disease matter are two different processes. Artificially induced sweating does not eliminate disease matter.
"I wonder what we shall do to-morrow," she presently murmured. "I don't," gasped Gertrude, towelling. Miriam waited for the prophecy. "Old Lahmann's back from Geneva," came the harsh panting voice. "Pastor Lahmann?" repeated Miriam. "None other, Madame." "Have you seen him?" went on Miriam dimly, wishing that she might be released. "Scots wha hae, no! But I saw Lily's frills."
Come along. Don't be silly." The elder girls gave in. Emma kept up a little solo of reproach hanging on Miriam's arm. "Very strict. Cold English. No bier. I want to home. I have bier to home" until they were in sight of the high walls of Waldstrasse. Pastor Lahmann gave a French lesson the next afternoon. "Sur l'eau, si beau!"
"Cave, my dear brats, be artig," came Bertha's cool even tones. "Ah! we are observed." "No, we are not observed. The observer observeth not." Miriam saw her companions looking across the boulevard. Following their eyes she found the figure of Pastor Lahmann walking swiftly bag in hand in the direction of an opening into a side street. "Ah!" she cried gaily. "Voila Monsieur; courrez, Mademoiselle!"
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