I was still thinking of the night.
Then I realised, and ran to my room.
The telegram lay in the centre of the table, chalky in the harsh light.
I ripped open the seal-stamp; my chest constricted; the letters swam, vanished, came again; I breathed with relief; everything stood still and I gave the telegram to Koster.
"Thank God.
I thought—"
It was only three words: ROBBY, COME SOON. I took the sheet again.
Relief vanished.
Fear returned.
"What can be the matter, Otto?
God, why couldn't she say more?
There must be something the matter." .
Koster put the telegram on the table.
"When did you hear from her last?"
"A week ago. No longer."
"Put a call through.
If it's anything, we'll go at once.
In the car.
Have you a timetable?"
I booked a call to the sanatorium and fetched the timetable from Frau Zalewski's sitting room.
"The next good connection isn't till noon to-morrow," said he. "We'd best take the car and go as far as we can.
Then we can always catch the next train.
It will save a few hours certainly.
What do you say?"
"Yes, in any case." I couldn't imagine how I should endure the idle hours in the train.
The telephone rang.
Koster went into my room with the timetable.
The sanatorium answered.
I asked for Pat.
A minute later the matron told me it would be better if Pat did not speak.
"What's the matter?" I shouted.
"A slight hemorrhage a few days ago.
And now some fever."
"Tell her I'm coming," I called.
"With Koster and Rarl.
We're leaving now.
Do you understand?"
"With Koster and Rarl," repeated the voice.
"Yes.
But tell her at once.
We are leaving now."
"I'll let her know immediately."
I went back to my room.
My legs were strangely light.
Koster was sitting at the table writing out the trains.
"Pack your bag," said he. "I'll drive home and get mine.
I'll be back here in half an hour."
I took the trunk from the cupboard.
It was Lenz's with the coloured hotel labels.
I packed quickly and settled with Frau Zalewski and the proprietor of the International.