“Yes?” she called.
She unlocked the door and opened it and a heavily cloaked figure came in. It was Annie, the cook, red-eyed and wrapped in mufflers. She slipped in quickly, as though practiced at getting speedily through doors and getting them closed again behind her. She stood there red-nosed, sniffling and glancing quickly around the room.
Molly said, “Good evening, Annie. I didn’t expect you tonight. Take your things off and get warm. It’s cold out.”
Annie said, “The soldiers brought winter early. My father always said a war brought bad weather, or bad weather brought a war. I don’t remember which.”
“Take off your things and come to the stove.”
“I can’t,” said Annie importantly. “They’re coming.”
“Who are coming?” Molly said.
“His Excellency,’ said Annie, “and the doctor and the two Anders boys.”
“Here?” Molly asked. “What for?”
Annie held out her hand and there was a little package in it. “Take it,” she said. “I stole it from the colonel’s plate. It’s meat.”
And Molly unwrapped the little cake of meat and put it in her mouth and she spoke around her chewing. “Did you get some?”
Annie said, “I cook it, don’t I? I always get some.”
“When are they coming?”
Annie sniffled. “The Anders boys are sailing for England. They’ve got to. They’re hiding now.”
“Are they?” Molly asked. “What for?”
“Well, it was their brother, Jack, was shot today for wrecking that little car. The soldiers are looking for the rest of the family. You know how they do.”
“Yes,” Molly said, “I know how they do. Sit down, Annie.”
“No time,” said Annie. “I’ve got to get back and tell His Excellency it’s all right here.”
Molly said, “Did anybody see you come?”
Annie smiled proudly. “No, I’m awful good at sneaking.”
“How will the Mayor get out?”
Annie laughed. “Joseph is going to be in his bed in case they look in, right in his nightshirt, right next to Madame!” And she laughed again. She said, “Joseph better lie pretty quiet.”
Molly said, “It’s an awful night to be sailing.”
“It’s better than being shot.”
“Yes, so it is. Why is the Mayor coming here?”
“I don’t know. He wants to talk to the Anders boys. I’ve got to go now, but I came to tell you.”
Molly said, “How soon are they coming?”
“Oh, maybe half, maybe three-quarters of an hour,” Annie said. “I’ll come in first. Nobody bothers with old cooks.” She started for the door and she turned midway, and as though accusing Molly of saying the last words she said truculently, “I’m not so old!” And she slipped out of the door and closed it behind her.
Molly went on knitting for a moment and then she got up and went to the stove and lifted the lid. The glow of the fire lighted her face. She stirred the fire and added a few lumps of coal and closed the stove again. Before she could get to her chair, there was a knocking on the outer door. She crossed the room and said to herself, “I wonder what she forgot.” She went into the passage and she said, “What do you want?”
A man’s voice answered her. She opened the door and a man’s voice said, “I don’t mean any harm. I don’t mean any harm.”
Molly backed into the room and Lieutenant Tonder followed her in. Molly said, “Who are you? What do you want? You can’t come in here. What do you want?”
Lieutenant Tonder was dressed in his great gray overcoat. He entered the room and took off his helmet and he spoke pleadingly. “I don’t mean any harm. Please let me come in.”
Molly said, “What do you want?”
She shut the door behind him and he said, “Miss, I only want to talk, that’s all. I want to hear you talk. That’s all I want.”
“Are you forcing yourself on me?” Molly asked.
“No, miss, just let me stay a little while and then I’ll go.”
“What is it you want?”
Tonder tried to explain. “Can you understand this—can you believe this? Just for a little while, can’t we forget this war? Just for a little while. Just for a little while, can’t we talk together like people—together?”
Molly looked at him for a long time and then a smile came to her lips. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”
Tonder said, “I’ve seen you in the town. I know you’re lovely. I know I want to talk to you.”
And Molly still smiled. She said softly, “You don’t know who I am.” She sat in her chair and Tonder stood like a child, looking very clumsy. Molly continued, speaking quietly, “Why, you’re lonely. It’s as simple as that, isn’t it?”
Tonder licked his lips and he spoke eagerly. “That’s it,” he said. “You understand. I knew you would. I knew you’d have to.” His words came tumbling out. “I’m lonely to the point of illness. I’m lonely in the quiet and the hatred.” And he said pleadingly, “Can’t we talk, just a little bit?”
Molly picked up her knitting. She looked quickly at the front door. “You can stay not more than fifteen minutes. Sit down a little, Lieutenant.”
She looked at the door again. The house creaked. Tonder became tense and he said, “Is someone here?”
“No, the snow is heavy on the roof. I have no man any more to push down.”
Tonder said gently, “Who did it? Was it something we did?”
And Molly nodded, looking far off. “Yes.”
He sat down. “I’m sorry.” After a moment he said, “I wish I could do something. I’ll have the snow pushed off the roof.”
“No,” said Molly, “no.”
“Why not?”
“Because the people would think I had joined with you. They would expel me. I don’t want to be expelled.”
Tonder said, “Yes, I see how that would be. You all hate us. But I’ll take care of you if you’ll let me.”
Now Molly knew she was in control, and her eyes narrowed a little cruelly and she said, “Why do you ask? You are the conqueror. Your men don’t have to ask. They take what they want.”
“That’s not what I want,” Tonder said. “That’s not the way I want it.”
And Molly laughed, still a little cruelly. “You want me to like you, don’t you, Lieutenant?”
He said simply, “Yes,” and he raised his head and he said, “You are so beautiful, so warm. Your hair is bright. Oh, I’ve seen no kindness in a woman’s face for so long!”
“Do you see any in mine?” she asked.
He looked closely at her. “I want to.”
She dropped her eyes at last. “You’re making love to me, aren’t you, Lieutenant?”
And he said clumsily, “I want you to like me. Surely I want you to like me. Surely I want to see that in your eyes. I have seen you in the streets. I have watched you pass by. I’ve given orders that you mustn’t be molested. Have you been molested?”
And Molly said quietly, “Thank you; no, I’ve not been molested.”
His words rushed on. “Why, I’ve even written a poem for you. Would you like to see my poem?”
And she said sardonically, “Is it a long poem? You have to go very soon.”
He said, “No, it’s a little tiny poem. It’s a little bit of a poem.” He reached inside his tunic and brought out a folded paper and handed it to her. She leaned close to the lamp and put on her glasses and she read quietly.
Your eyes in their deep heavens
Possess me and will not depart;
A sea of blue thoughts rushing
And pouring over my heart.
She folded the paper and put it in her lap. “Did you write this, Lieutenant?”
“Yes.”
She said a little tauntingly, “To me?”
And Tonder answered uneasily, “Yes.”
She looked at him steadily, smiling. “You didn’t write it, Lieutenant, did you?”
He smiled back like a child caught in a lie. “No.”
Molly asked him, “Do you know who did?”
Tonder said, ‘Yes, Heine wrote it. It’s ‘Mit deinen blauen Augem.’ I’ve always loved it.” He laughed embarrassedly and Molly laughed with him, and suddenly they were laughing together. He stopped laughing just as suddenly and a bleakness came into his eyes. “I haven’t laughed like that since forever.” He said, “They told us the people would like us, would admire us. They do not. They only hate us.” And then he changed the subject as though he worked against time. “You are so beautiful. You are beautiful as the laughter.”
Molly said, “You’re beginning to make love to me, Lieutenant You must go in a moment.”
And Tonder said, “Maybe I want to make love to you. A man needs love. A man dies without love. His insides shrivel and his chest feels like a dry chip. I’m lonely.”