Page:Thea von Harbou Metropolis eng 1927.pdf/186

 METROPOLIS Sparsely distributed candles were burning, gtvmg the room an inward cosiness and a warm air. of comfort. The room was filled with the tender twittering of sleepy cbildvoices. chattering like swallows before they fly to their nests. Answering them in tones which were but little darker, came the voices of the beautiful, brocaded. painted' women, who had once been the playthings of the sons. Equally frightened at the thought of Bight as of remaining where they were, they eventually stayed in the "House of the Sons," being still undecided; and Maria had brought the children to them, because they could have found no better refuge; for, by the beautiful and dreadful chance of all that had taken place, the houp of loving little harlots became a troup of loving little mothers, huming with a new fire in the execution of their new duties. Not far from Maria the little drink-mixer was kneeling, washing the skinny slender-limbed body of Grot's daughter, who was standing in front of her. But the child had taken the sponge from her hand. and, without saying a word, proceeding with intense gravity, was t,houghtfuHy and untiringly washing the beautiful, painted face of the drinkmixer. The girl knelt quite still, her eyes closed, neither did she move when the cbild's hands began to dry her face with the rough towel. But Grot's daughter was not quite successful in this undertaking; for, whenever she dried the girl's cheeks, again and again did the swift, bright drops run over them. Until Grot's daughter dropped the towel to look at the girl who was kneeling before her inquiringly, and not without reproach. Upon which the girl caught the child in her arms, pressing her forehead to the heart of the silent creature, uttering to this heart words of love which she had never found before. Maria passed by with soundless step. But when the door to the hall, into which no noise from the noisy Metrop,olis could penetrate, closed behind her, the ore-voice of the angel of the cathedral struck at her breast like a fist of steel, that she stood still, stunned, raising her hands to her head. 191