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Updated: June 8, 2025
It was almost laughable in its helpless dismay. Two o'clock struck. "They'll be starting in half an hour," Herr Gottfried said. "Women," Mr. Zanti said, still looking distressfully about him, "they are, in truth, very difficult." And now there was no pretence, any longer, of disguising the nervous tension that was with them in the room.
Zanti added in a softer voice "So when he tell me that you 'ave not written I say 'Ah! Mr. Peter forgets his old friends, and I was zorry but I say that I will go and make sure. And now I am glad, ver' glad, and Stephen will be glad too. All is well " "Oh! I am ashamed. I don't know what has come over me all this time.
Zanti, and the languid gentleman shook hands with Peter as though he were conferring a great benefit upon him and he hoped Peter wouldn't forget it. "Zis," said Mr.
She was very pale, tall and thin and her most striking features were her piercing black eyes and with these she stared at Peter. "Zis is Mrs. Dantzig," said Mr. Zanti, "an old friend Mr. Peter Westcott, Mrs. Dantzig. 'E will work wiz us." The woman said nothing but nodded her head and continued her work. They passed out of the room. Stairs ran both up and down. "What is down there?" asked Peter.
"Ah, zat is ze kitchen," said Mr. Zanti, laughing. Upstairs there was a clean and neat bedroom with a large bed in it, an old sofa and two chairs. "Zis is where I sleep," said Mr. Zanti. "For a night or two until you 'ave discovered a lodging you shall sleep on zat sofa. Zay will make it whilst we 'ave supper." It was now late and Peter was very very tired.
Zanti sat, his great head buried in his hands, the tears trickling down through his fingers, and Herr Gottfried, motionless from behind his counter watched him in silent sympathy. Peter and Stephen had gone together. The bomb was, that evening, the dominant note of the occasion.
Then they played Hunt the Slipper, sitting round in a ring upon the carpet, young Stephen trying to catch his own slipper, falling over upon his back, kicking his legs in the air, dashing now at Stephen the Elder's beard, now at his father's coat, now at Mr. Zanti's legs. The noise of the laughter drowned the rain and the fire. Mr. Zanti had the slipper he was sitting upon it.
Yes, if there were any trouble Stephen would be there. What were they all about? Peter closed the shutters of the shop that night without having any explanation to offer. Mr. Zanti was indeed a strange man; when Peter turned to go he stopped him with his hand on his shoulder: "Peter, boy," he said, whispering, "come upstairs I have something to tell you."
Had he during these seven years been of such value, that the shop could not get on without him?... To that second question he must certainly answer, no. Why then had Mr. Zanti kept him all this time? Surely because Mr. Zanti was fond of him. Yes, that undoubtedly was a part of the reason.
These two, the best friends that he had in the world that she should dare! "Oh! you'll stay to dinner, you two! You must " "I'm afraid, ver' afraid," Mr. Zanti said bowing very low and still looking at Clare with apologetic, troubled eyes, "we 'ave no time. Immediate business." Still Clare said nothing. There was another moment's silence, and then Peter said: "I'll come down and see you off."
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