Coffee, by the canful?
There must be a whole tribe of drunks under the table, out there.
But the hostess explained.
To-day in the back room they were holding the farewell party to Rosa's friend Lilly.
I clapped my hand to my forehead.
But of course, I was invited!
The only man too, as Rosa had significantly said— for Kiki, the pansy, who was also to be there, did not count.
I went out again swiftly and bought a bunch of flowers, a pineapple, a child's rattle, and a slab of chocolate.
Rosa received me with the smile of a great lady.
She was wearing a heavy low-necked dress and sat enthroned at the head of the table.
Her gold teeth flashed again.
I enquired how her little one was, and for it presented her with the celluloid rattle and the bar of chocolate.
Rosa beamed.
With the pineapple and the flowers I turned to Lilly:
"With my best wishes."
"He always was a cavalier," said Rosa; "and now come, Bob, sit between us two."
Lilly was Rosa's best friend.
She had a brilliant career behind her.
She had been what is the unattainable ambition of every little pros'titute, a hotel woman.
A hotel woman does not walk the streets—she lives in the hotel and makes her acquaintances there.
Very few reach those heights—they have not enough clothes or enough money to be able to wait long for a suitor.
True, Lilly had only been in a provincial hotel; but in the course of the years she had saved almost four thousand marks.
Now she meant to get married.
Her future husband had a small plumbing business.
He knew all about her but he did not mind.
And he would not have to worry for the future; when one of these girls does marry, she is to be trusted.
They know the rough-and-tumble and have had enough of it.
Lilly was to be married on Monday.
To-day Rosa was giving her a farewell coffee-party.
They had all turned up to be with Lilly once more.
Once married she would not be able to come here again.
Rosa poured me out a cup of coffee.
Alois came trotting up with an enormous cake all peppered over with currants and almonds and angelica.
She laid a great slice in front of me.
I knew what I had to do.
Expertly I sampled a bite and registered utmost astonishment.
"Donnerwetter, but this was certainly never bought in a shop!"
"Made it myself," said Rosa, delighted.
She was a wonderful cook and liked one to recognize it.
Especially at goulash and plum cake she was unrivalled.
She did not come from Bohemia for nothing.
I looked around.
There they sat about the table, workers in God's vineyard, unparalleled connoisseurs of human nature, soldiers of love: Wally, the beautiful, whose white fox somebody had stolen recently during a night ride in a taxi; Lina with the wooden leg, who yet always found a lover; Fritzi, the gay, who was in love with the flat-footed Alois, though she could have had a house of her own and a friend, whom she refused; Margot of the red cheeks who always wore housemaid's clothes and thereby picked up smart lovers; Marion, the youngest, radiant and carefree; Kiki, who did not count as a man because he wore women's clothes and made up; Mimi, the poor creature, who with her forty-five years and varicose veins found the going always hard; a couple of barmaids, and some dining partners whom I did not know; and finally, the second guest of honour, little, grey and shrivelled as a winter apple— "Mother," the confidante of everybody, comfort and support of all night walkers. Mother of the sausage stall at the corner of Nikolaistrasse, at night a travelling kitchen and exchange bureau, where together with her Frankfort sausages she sold on the quiet cigarettes and rubber goods, and could always be counted on for a loan.
I understand the etiquette.
Not a word of shop, no indelicate suggestion to-day; forgotten Rosa's remarkable prowess that had earned her the nickname of the
"Iron Horse"; forgotten Fritzi's discussions with Stefan Grigoleit, the cattle dealer, on the subject of love; forgotten Kiki's dances around the brezel basket in the early hours of the morning.
The conversation here would have done credit to a mothers' meeting.
"Everything ready, Lilly?" I asked.
She nodded.
"I've had my trousseau a long while."