S. Agnon - A Book that Was Lost

“We’re in luck,” he said to Toni. “This is far better than we expected.” Toni smoothed the crease on her upper lip with her tongue, either because she was hungry or maybe because she could think of nothing to say in reply. The waiter returned with their order. Michael and Toni drew up their chairs and began eating. Toni was ashamed to eat too heartily, but her bashfulness failed to blunt her appetite.

The potatoes, spinach, eggs, meat, turnips, and other things that the waiter brought them were all excellently prepared. Toni ate with relish. The stars winked at them from the sauce, and from the bough of a tree came the song of a bird. Hartmann covered his knees with his napkin and listened to the bird.

The girl they had seen on their arrival passed by. She gave them a glance of recognition. Hartmann looked at her and said, “Didn’t I say she was a red-head with freckles?” though in fact he did not manage to see whether she had freckles or not.

Toni lifted the glass with the flowers, looked at them and then smelled them. She had always been particularly fond of asters, they were so modest and lovely. She had planted some on her mother’s grave, and those asters, not particular about growing in the best soil necessarily, would look at her gratefully when she came for a visit.

Again the girl passed by, this time carrying a basket of plums with both hands. The juice of the overripe plums gave off an odor of cloying sweetness.

5

Taking his wineglass in his hand, Hartmann mused: Since the day I married her I never behaved so decently toward her as when I gave her the divorce. Unconsciously raising his glass higher, he continued: If a man quarrels with a woman, he has no right to live with her. Marriage without love is no marriage at all. Divorce is preferable to a quarrelsome marriage. He put down the glass, moved the cruet-stand, and selected a toothpick. Following the same trend of thought, he reflected: If a man marries a woman and does not love her, he has to give her a divorce. If he doesn’t divorce her, he has to love her. And that love has to undergo constant renewal. “Did you say anything?” Toni stretched out her hand, pointed to the tree, and said: “A bird.”

Hartmann looked at the tree.

“Is that the one that was singing,” Toni asked, “or was it another one?”

“Of course it was,” Hartmann replied with great animation, although his certainty rested upon insecure ground.

Toni leaned her head on her left shoulder and thought to herself, That little creature sits hidden in a tree, and its voice brings a thrill to one’s heart.

Hartmann clenched his fingers and looked at Toni as she sat with her head resting on her shoulder. Her shoulders seemed to him to be hidden, and two white specks peeped at him through the openings in her dress where her blouse had slipped down, exposing one shoulder. Now, Hartmann thought, we shall see the other one. Unconsciously he rapped on the table. The waiter heard and came up to them. Once he had come, Hartmann took out his purse, paid the bill and tipped him. The waiter thanked him and bowed profusely: either he was drunk, or else the tip was larger than he had anticipated.

The meal had been a good one, and it had cost Hartmann less than he had expected. He sat with a feeling of contentment and ordered a quarter-bottle of brandy for himself and a sweet liqueur for Toni. He took out a cigar and trimmed it with his knife. Then he offered his cigarette case to Toni. They sat opposite one another, the smoke from the cigar and cigarette mingling. Above them shone the little lanterns, and above the lanterns shone the stars. Toni parted the smoke with her fingers and went on smoking tranquilly. Hartmann looked at her and said: “Listen, Toni.” Toni raised her eyes to him. Hartmann put down his cigar and said: “I had a dream.”

“A dream?” Toni closed her eyes as if dreaming herself.

“Are you listening?” Hartmann asked. She opened her eyes, looked at him, and closed them again.

“I don’t remember whether I had this dream last night or the night before,” he went on. “But I remember every detail of it, as if I were dreaming it now. Are you listening, Toni?” She nodded her head.

“In this dream I was living in Berlin. Suessenschein came to visit me. You remember Suessenschein? At the time he had just returned from Africa. I’m always glad to see him, for he brings with him an atmosphere of the far-off places I used to dream of in my childhood. But that day I wasn’t glad. Perhaps it was because he came in the morning, when I like to sit by myself. Perhaps it was because in dreams we aren’t always happy to be with the people we enjoy when we’re awake. He had someone else with him, a young man to whom I took a violent dislike the instant he walked in. He acted as if he had wearied himself with Suessenschein on all his travels. But for Suessenschein’s sake I treated him civilly. Are you listening?” “I’m listening,” Toni whispered, as if afraid that the sound of her voice would interrupt his story. Hartmann continued:

“Suessenschein looked around at my flat and said: If I found a flat like yours, I’d take it; I want to stay here awhile, and I’m tired of hotels. I replied: I’ve heard of a very nice flat that’s going in Charlottenburg. To which he rejoined: All right, let’s go there. Wait, I suggested, let me phone up first. No, he said, we’ll go there straight away. I went along with him.”

Toni nodded, and Hartmann went on:

“When we got there, the landlady was nowhere to be seen. I wanted to tell him off for being so impulsive, but I stopped myself, as my temper was very frayed, and I felt I was in danger of going too far. His companion urged the maid to go and call the landlady. The maid looked at him suspiciously, or maybe she just looked at him without any particular expression, but I hated him so much that I thought she looked at him with suspicion. As she went, the landlady carne in. She was dark, neither young nor old, on the short side, eyes a trifle filmy, and one leg shorter than the other, though this did not seem like a blemish in her. On the contrary, she seemed to dance along rather than walk. A secret joy twinkled on her lips, a hidden, yearning joy, a virginal joy.”

Although Hartmann was aware that Toni was listening with interest, he nevertheless asked, “Are you listening, Toni?” and went on.

“The rooms she showed us were very nice. But Suessenschein turned away from them and said: I wouldn’t advise you to take this flat. Winter is approaching, and there is no stove. I gazed at him in astonishment: Who was it that wanted to rent a flat, I or he? I have a fine one of my own; I’m very pleased with it, and I have no intention of exchanging it for another. Suessenschein repeated: A place without a stove, a place without a stove, if I were you I wouldn’t take it. Here the landlady put in: But there is a stove. But Suessenschein interrupted her: Where is the stove? In the bedroom. But the study, madam, is all of glass. Are you looking for somewhere to live, or for an observatory from which to view the frozen birds? His words depressed me so much that I began to feel cold. I looked around and saw that the study did indeed consist more of windows than walls. I nodded and said: That’s so. The landlady looked at me with her filmy but charming eyes, and straightened herself with a caper. I turned away from her and thought, How shall I ever get away from this cold? My skin was already clinging to my bones. I woke up and found that the blanket had slipped off my bed.”

After Hartmann had finished, he had a feeling that perhaps he ought not to have recounted his dream; and yet at the same time he experienced a sense of relief. In order, therefore, to give expression to both emotions, he assumed a tone of banter and said: “That was a fine story I told you. The whole thing really wasn’t worth telling.” Toni licked her lips, and her eyes grew moist. He looked at her involuntarily, and it seemed to him that it was with just such eyes that the landlady had looked at him. Now there was nothing wrong with her, except…except for something whose meaning he did not understand, but he felt that if Toni were to get up, she, too, would turn out to be lame. However, since that would not seem like a blemish — as he knew from the woman in the dream it followed that even if Toni were lame, she would not seem crippled to him. He got up, took his hat, and said: “Let’s go.”