"Is she up then?"
"She must be, of course," retorted Frida promptly, "else she wouldn't have rung for breakfast."
"God bless you," I replied. "You're a perfect angel some mornings, Frida.
Do you think you could bring yourself to make my coffee right away too?"
She growled something and strode off down the passage, wagging her bottom contemptuously as she went.
She was good at that.
I had never seen anybody who could put so much expression into it.
Hasse had waited.
I was suddenly ashamed when I turned and saw him there beside me, so resigned and still.
"All your troubles will be over in an hour or two," said I, offering him my hand. He did not take it, but looked at me strangely.
"Do you think we could look for her?" he asked softly.
"But you don't even know where she is!"
"Still, one could look for her, perhaps," he repeated. "If we took your car—I would pay everything, of course," he added hastily.
"That's not the point," I replied. "It's just hopeless.
Where would we drive to?
She wouldn't be about the street at this hour."
"I don't know," said he, still ever so softly. "I only thought we could try."
Frida came back with the empty tray.
"I must go now," said I, "and I think you are worrying unnecessarily.
Still, I'd willingly do you the favour, but Fraulein Hollmann has to go away soon and I rather wanted to be with her to-day.
This is perhaps her last Sunday here.
You will understand, I'm sure?"
He nodded.
It pained me the way he stood there, but I was impatient to get to Pat.
"But if you want to go off immediately, you can always get a taxi below, of course," I went on, "but I don't advise it.
You wait a bit, rather—then I can ring up my friend Lenz and he'll look with you."
I had the feeling he wasn't listening.
"You did not see her this morning?" he then asked suddenly.
"No," said I, mystified. "Else I would have told you long ago."
He nodded again and then went absently, without a word, back into his room.
Pat had already been into my room and found the flowers.
She laughed as she came back.
"Robby," she said, "I am innocent, though.
Frida has just been telling me that fresh roses on Sunday morning early, at this time of year, must have something to do with stealing.
She told me too this sort isn't to be had in any of the florists about here."
"Think what you like," I replied. "The main thing is that they give you some pleasure."
"More now than ever, darling.
You've run a risk to get them."
"Yes, and what risk!" I thought of the priest. "But what are you doing up so early?"
"I couldn't sleep any more.
And besides I dreamed.
Nothing nice."
I glanced at her.
She looked tired and had shadows under the eyes.
"Since when have you been dreaming like that?" said I. "I thought that was my specialty."
She shook her head.
"Did you see that autumn has arrived outside?"
"With us that's called late summer," I replied. "Why, the roses are still flowering.
It is raining, that's all I can see."
"It is raining," she repeated.