Page:The Jail, Experiences in 1916.pdf/57

 It was a beautiful golden day, the streets swarmed with people, everybody was hurrying in pursuit of some aim—office machines; for years and years we have known their faces, their gait, their movements; if one of them disappears, nobody misses him, the the others will press on in same way tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, a year hence, five years hence.

I sat down at my desk and began to work.

At ten o'clock I was called on the telephone by Dr. Sieghart, the managing secretary. I was to take my hat and coat.

Now "it" is here, flashed through my mind.

I went up. The secretary's face was very solemn, and softly and slowly he began to say that "leider muss ich Ihnen."

“Arrested?” I said jerkily.

"Yes. A detective is waiting in the next room."

"Good, let us go."

I was told that I had about an hour if I wanted to write home.

Unnecessary. I had already seen to that. But I should like to write a few lines to Josefínka asking her to bring me a handbag with clean linen.

They said I could. Here was paper, a pen, an envelope.

I wrote. Clean linen, soap, a toothbrush,—and where was I to have it sent me?

Perhaps to the police, they thought. However, we would ask the detective.

The detective came in. It was neither Mr. Kolbe nor the other taciturn person,—it was quite a strange detective. Yes, to the police, he thought.

"Have you a warrant for the arrest?" I asked.