“That’s your affair. But I don’t want to make you unhappy. You still owe me one mark thirty-five pfennig. When can I have it?”
“Oh, you will soon have it, certainly, Kromer. I don’t know yet—perhaps to-morrow, or the day after, I shall have some more.
You understand that I can’t tell my father, don’t you?”
“That’s no concern of mine. I don’t want to harm you. If I liked, I could get the money before noon, you see, and I’m poor.
You wear nice clothes, and you get something better to eat for dinner than I do.
But I won’t say anything. I am willing to wait a few days.
The day after to-morrow, in the afternoon, I will whistle for you, then you will bring it along.
You can recognize my whistle?” He gave me a whistle that I had often heard before.
“Yes,” I said, “I know it.” He went away, as if I didn’t belong to him.
It had been only a transaction between us, nothing further.
Even to-day, I believe, Kromer’s whistle would terrify me if I heard it again suddenly.
From then on I heard it often. It seemed I heard it continually and always.
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