Place in the City by Howard Fast Read Free Book Online

faint, high note floated through the room.
    â€œI was playing in the dark,” Claus said, speaking very slowly—“in the dark, Anna, because I find that I can dream along with the music. That is silly, yes?—and I am too old to be silly. But I sit at the piano, and I have fancies. What kind of fancies? I am in—what do you call it—a great hall, where there is one single piano, a long concert grand. I play, and then there is the ovation—and then there is my Anna. When I am in my dressing room, triumphant, people come in, but they have no eyes for me, only for my Anna. She is so beautiful, you see, that nobody will look at someone who is only a great pianist. Is it right?”
    â€œClaus—Claus—”
    â€œNow what, my Anna? Tell me, do I frighten you when I speak about my dreams? No, no, my Anna. Don’t think about me eating out my heart any more, because now I have all that I will ever want. I have you.”
    â€œYes—you have me.”
    â€œLike my own child. You know—you never will be but my own. Like God led me to you, where you were, so that when I have you, I have everything. Come over here to me, my Anna. Come here.”
    But she continued to stand at the door, and unable to see her face, he fancied she was smiling, for no other reason than that he was so quietly glad inside of himself.
    â€œWhen you are quiet with me, coy, my Anna, does it mean that I should go to you and take you in my arms?”
    â€œClaus—”
    â€œWhat is it? Come over here, Anna.”
    Then she walked over to him, and he reached up, drawing her down into his arms. She tried not to resist; she tried to make herself loose and willing in his arms; but it was woefully hard, and when at last she was there, close against him, she felt her lips trembling.
    â€œClaus,” she whispered, “Claus—”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWithout me, what would happen to you? Tell me. Wouldn’t it be just the same as if you hadn’t ever known me?”
    â€œWhat a little fool you are!”
    â€œBut tell me, Claus, please—”
    â€œI should scold you, perhaps, for having ideas like that.”
    â€œNo, don’t scold me, Claus. But sometimes you must think—you must think of how it was before I was with you, how it would be if I were to go—”
    â€œWhere, where?”
    â€œNo, no,” she explained hastily. “I’m going nowhere, Claus. But if something were to happen to me—”
    â€œâ€”Yes—if something happened—”
    â€œThen what would you do?”
    â€œI don’t know. I think about it sometimes, but not too much. I have no one, my Anna—but you.”
    â€œYes—”
    â€œThen maybe you understand me—a little? You don’t understand much, because you are only like a little child. But if you were to go away and leave me—listen—” He pushed her from him, swung abruptly to the piano, and brought down his hands in two crashing chords. Again and again, until she fancied that the room had turned itself inside out, that it had filled itself with all the senseless, mad, rushing turmoil of the city. It was discord, direct and terrible counterpoint, rushing into her ears until her senses seemed to be leaving her. Then he stopped. He turned back, and took her hand.
    â€œAnna—did I frighten you?”
    â€œA little—”
    â€œThere is a boy I teach. This is what I’ve come to. His mother’s a common woman of the streets, but I teach him because I need the few poor dollars he can give me. Just a tattered little brat, but with something inside of his head. Maybe he’s mad. So today, when he came in, he struck those two chords, and I thought that I would lose my senses, only listening. But you see what would happen—”
    â€œI see—”
    He smiled, throwing his arms around her. “But why do we talk of such things, my Anna? I