it. Growing pale, as she always did where others would have flushed,
she said: "It is an absurd idea--sheer nonsense! I won't have it,
understand that! Pray, excuse me," she continued to Maurice, speaking
in a more friendly tone than she had yet used to him, "but you
must not listen to him. It is just one of his whims--nothing more. In
less than a week, you would wish yourself away again. You have no idea
how changeable he is--how impossible to live with."

Maurice hastened to reassure her. Krafft did not speak; he stood at
the window, with his back to them, his forehead pressed against the
glass.

So Maurice continued to live in the BRAUSTRASSE, under the despotic
rule of Frau Krause, who took every advantage of his good-nature. But
after this, not a day passed without his seeing Krafft; the latter
sought him out on trivial pretexts. Maurice hardly recognised him: he
was gentle, amiable, and amenable to reason; he subordinated himself
entirely to Maurice, and laid an ever-increasing weight on his
opinion. Maurice became able to wind him round his finger; and the
hint of a reproof from him served to throw Krafft into a state of
nervous depression. Without difficulty, Maurice found himself to
rights in his role of mentor, and began to flatter himself that he
would ultimately make of Krafft a decent member of society. As it was,
he soon induced his friend to study in a more methodical way; they
practised for the same number of hours in the forenoon, and met in the
afternoon; and Krafft only sometimes broke through this arrangement,
by appearing in the BRAUSTRASSE early in the morning, and, despite
remonstrance, throwing himself on the sofa, and remaining there, while
Maurice practised. The latter ended by growing accustomed to this whim
as to several other things that had jarred on him--such as Krafft's