She told the maid to say that her son was
of age, and that she was not his cashier. There was another ring--
the maid reappeared with a second bill, which had also been
brought the day before. It was from a well-known wine merchant;
this, too, was not a small one. Another ring; this time it was a
bill for flowers and by no means a trifle. This, too, had been
brought the day before. Fru Kaas read it twice, three times, four
times: she could not realise that Rafael owed money for flowers--
what did he want them for? Another ring; now it was a bill from a
jeweller. Fru Kaas became so nervous at the ringing and the bills
that she took to flight. Here, then, was the explanation of their
postponed departure: he was held captive; this was the reason for
all his anxiety about selling the patent. He had to buy his
freedom. She was hardly in the street when an unpretending little
old woman stepped up to her, and asked timidly if this might be
Frau von Kas? Another bill, thought Fru Kaas, eyeing her closely.
She reminded one of a worn-out rose-bush with a few faded blossoms
on it: she seemed poor and inexperienced in all save humility.
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