And of all that happy, noisy family, only he and Hermann left! In one of the open doorways, for it was warm, a final caress of vanishing summer, he saw a fat, youngish woman knitting woolen hose.

Two or three children sprawled about her knees.

There was that petulance of lip and forehead which marked the dissatisfaction of the coquette married.
"Tekla!" Grumbach murmured.
He was not conscious that he had paused, but the woman was.

She eyed him with the mild indifference of the bovine.

Then she dropped her glance and the shining needles clicked afresh.