We have arranged that Annie is to come some
time on Monday and may good fortune attend your meeting."
It was on the postman's second round that Effi received these lines
and it would presumably be less than two hours till Annie appeared.
That was a short time and yet too long. Effi walked restlessly about
the two rooms and then back to the kitchen, where she talked with
Roswitha about everything imaginable: about the ivy over on Christ's
Church and the probability that next year the windows would be
entirely overgrown; about the porter, who had again turned off the gas
so poorly that they were likely to be blown up; and about buying their
lamp oil again at the large lamp store on Unter den Linden instead of
on Anhalt St. She talked about everything imaginable, except Annie,
because she wished to keep down the fear lurking in her soul, in spite
of the letter from the minister's wife, or perhaps because of it.
Finally, at noon, the bell was rung timidly and Roswitha went to look
through the peephole. Surely enough, it was Annie. Roswitha gave the
child a kiss, but said nothing, and then led her very quietly, as
though some one were ill in the house, from the corridor into the back
room and then to the door opening into the front room.
"Go in there, Annie." With these words she left the child and returned
to the kitchen, for she did not wish to be in the way.
Effi was standing at the other end of the room with her back against
the post of the mirror when the child entered.
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