Hanno’s Doll Read Online Free PDF Page B

the Ernest’s life for him to want to help you. He was the most genuinely good young man Hanno had ever met. (But then he knew acting young men, not dedicated young doctors.) If Hanno was remembered, it wouldn’t be for Hanno Dietrich, clown-actor, actor-clown, but because the Ernest would become a world-famous doctor and since the Nazis would have liquidated him if not for Hanno Dietrich, Hanno Dietrich would be immortalized by a line in the Ernest’s biography. (Or would they remember him because he had accidentally killed a boy? Because of the headlines which would appear in spite of all the efforts of the college? Ach , God, God! Forget now. Remember then.)
    The Ernest had appeared immediately, had listened, pressed his hand in sorrow, had offered help immediately. Of course no sanatorium for Puppchen. He would contact the sanatorium doctor at once. Of course, no staying in the apartment with servants and nurses for Puppchen; Anni would come today and stay with Puppchen and he would be Puppchen’s doctor-friend.
    Anni had been ashamed to admit to her son that she was jealous of her old friend’s young wife, so she had done what Ernest asked. Anni had stayed with Puppchen in the apartment and guarded her for him.
    Ernest had spoken of the five-week vacation he was to have between the hospital appointment just finishing at the end of the year and the new post he was going to take with some professor, to study his specialty. Ernest had had so few vacations in his life that this was a great thing for him; he wanted to see Wien and he wanted to see it with Anni. Anni could then decide, once and for all, whether she wanted to remain in Wien (she was becoming sentimental about the good old days before the Nazis), or whether she would become a real American.
    Did Anni really want to go back to Wien?
    What was there here for her, she asked. Ernest would be moving to Cincinnati in February. Ernest no longer needed her. She did not want to become a nuisance to Ernest.
    And how about her young theatre people? How about her work with their voices … and their souls?
    Anni said she was tired of theatre people, young and old both.
    It had been because of him, of course, because of him marrying Puppchen, she had soured on the United States.
    Yes, she would like to go with the Ernest to Wien.
    But there had been no money for such a trip. Anni had never made much more as a voice coach than she needed to pay her way. She had made much less than she needed to pay for all the young ones she tried to help. (But he mustn’t help Puppchen, she said. That was different. That was wrong.)
    He couldn’t offer money. Anni would spit on his money … always had, but he could offer to buy Felix’s house, which was Anni’s only possession of any value. (She never had allowed him to give her anything.)
    But what would he do with Felix’s house? (No charity.)
    He would sell it.
    So could Anni sell it. (No favors.)
    But Anni could not sell it both advantageously and in time to take the trip with Ernest. Besides, Felix’s house was charming. Was it not, Anni? It really was charming, was it not, Anni? Sans blague ! Anni, dressed to go out and market for them in a limp cotton suit, the pattern smudged where the September heat had perspired it, was proof for Hanno how uncomfortable it was in New York City once you left air conditioning. The whole of September could be hot in New York City. He began to describe September in Bradley for Puppchen, the benign temperature, the cool pace, the trees and tree-shaded roads, the beautiful college with the old pink-brick Georgian buildings and all the new young men spilling out of them. He described the little theatre Felix had done so much with. He told Puppchen how often he had envied Felix his life in Bradley. He said to Puppchen that Felix’s house would be the perfect spot for his convalescence now and, in the future, the perfect place whenever he and Puppchen