Everybody looked at Philippina; even Jordan himself honoured her with a
faint glance. Daniel and Gertrude were amazed. Daniel did not recognise
his cousin; he knew nothing about her; he had seen her but once, and
then he was a mere child. He did not know who this repulsive-looking
individual was, and demanded that Eleanore give him an explanation. As
he did this, he raised his eyebrows.
Eleanore was the only one Philippina looked at in a kindly way; in
Philippina's own face there was an expression of curiosity.
Philippina's whole bearing had something of the monstrous about it. Even
her dress was picturesque, adventuresome. Her great brown straw hat,
with the ribbon sticking straight up in the air, was shoved on to the
back of her head so as not to spoil the effect of the fashionable bangs
that hung down over her forehead. Her loud, checkered dress was strapped
about her waist with a cloth belt so tightly that the contour of her fat
body was made to look positively ridiculous: she resembled a gigantic
hour glass. In her rough-cut features there was an element of lurking
malevolence.
After a few minutes of painful stillness she walked up to Daniel, and
plucked him by the coat-sleeve: "Eh, you don't know who I am?" she
asked, and her squinty eyes shone on him with enigmatic savagery: "I am
Philippina; you know, Philippina Schimmelweis."
Daniel stepped back from her: "Well, what of it?" he asked, wrinkling
his brow.
She followed him, took him by the coat-sleeve again, and led him over
into one corner: "Listen, Daniel," she stammered, "my father--he must
give you all the money you need. For years ago your father gave him all
the money he had, and told him to keep it for you. Do you understand? I
happened to hear about it one time when my father was talking about it
to my mother. It was a good seven years ago, but I made a note of it. My
father spent the money on himself; he thinks he can keep it. Go to him,
and tell him what you want; tell him how much you want, and then go help
these people here. But you must not give me away; if you do they'll kill
me. Do you understand? You won't say a word about it, will you?"
"Is that true?" Daniel managed to say in reply, as a feeling of
unspeakable anger struggled with one of indescribable disgust.
"It is true, Daniel, every word of it; 'pon my soul and honour," replied
Philippina; "just go, and you'll see that I have told you the truth."
During the conversation of the two, of which she could hardly hear a
single syllable, Eleanore never took her eyes off them.