The street was deserted, no pedestrian school-goers walked immediately in front or behind them. 47 was no more than a sort of railway compartment on the way to that. She loved to dress the Fritz and Anna in outfits that she stitched from discarded velvet dresses. Then for a time she sat very still. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations.
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