While the World Is Still Asleep (The Century Trilogy Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

squinted as he looked out over his pupils.
    “The sight of you all slouching there makes me sick! How many times do I have to explain the proper posture? Feet must be flat, with the entire sole flush with the floor! Thighs must rest straight and level on the surface of the seat! It’s disgusting to you see sprawled out that way!” He took his cane and whacked a pupil in the first row across the back, causing a sharp clapping noise.
    “And you! Keep your head up! The chin should never touch the chest!” Another swish of the cane, this time at the back of the first girl’s neighbor. Neither of the girls so much as flinched. They could take it; he had to give them that. But why do they prefer a stroke of the cane to following my instructions? he wondered as he made his way to the back rows.
    “Hurry up—feet parallel and flat on the floor! Thighs straight on the seat. Upper bodies may be inclined slightly forward, but woe betide anyone who leans against the edge of the table! And your shoulders! How many times do I have to repeat myself? Shoulders must be aligned with the edge of the table. The right shoulder no higher or lower than the left.” He looked on grimly as the young women struggled to adopt his decreed posture. The slim newcomer seemed to be having particular difficulties. Looking closer, Krotzmann realized she had quite a broad, strong back. This evidence of physical strength angered him, although he could not have explained why. Instantly, he was standing beside her.
    “You!” He brought his cane down on the table in front of her with a thwack. “Name!”
    “Josephine Schmied,” came the reply, soft but firm.
    Josephine. He knew it. This was no Martha or Karla. What was she doing here? He glared at her.
    “The deportment of your arms is unacceptable! This is a classroom, not some train station or wherever else you feel like loitering.” His stick came down hard on her hand. His right eye twitched nervously when he saw the blood welling up from her knuckles. Bright-red blood. He withdrew the cane and felt a kind of pleasant relief. Two or three girls laughed, and he recognized Adele’s voice among them. He cast a warning glare around the room, then turned back to the newcomer. “Your left forearm should rest entirely on top of the desk, and your right with the hand and wrist.”
    “I had an accident. My shoulder is injured. Unfortunately, I am not able to sit any other way,” the young woman said and swept a lock of hair from her forehead.
    Why would she not look at him? Did she imagine she was better than he was? Was she trying to flirt with him? The tension rose in him once again. “Do you believe for a minute I would accept such a ridiculous excuse?”
    His cane came slashing down on her other hand. Once. Twice. The newcomer shook in a way that did not come entirely from the pain she must have felt, but from something else, something deeper. For a moment, he feared the young woman would leap from her chair and defend herself from his blows. But the moment passed and nothing happened. He exhaled. He looked down at her, his superiority established.
    “I hope that will teach you not to answer back. And just so you know: There’ll be no cozy potato peeling in the kitchen or ironing in the laundry for you. I’m assigning you to our caretaker. Let’s see what your shoulder says to a bit of hard labor . . .”

    Although it was shortly before midday, gas lamps were still burning in every house in Luisenstadt—it was one of those November days that seemed unwilling to brighten. Isabelle’s lips were white with cold and her eyes were tearing up from the icy east wind. She pulled the collar of her coat closer around her neck.
    “Where have you been? I’ve been twiddling my thumbs for ten minutes out here—next time I’ll go by myself!” she said, when Clara finally emerged from the pharmacy.
    “Stop complaining. I had a lot of trouble getting out at all!” Clara answered breathlessly as