Frau Lublinich and the Hotel Store

Frau Lublinich would march on the bridge and beyond it. She could have adorned her person in scarlet and gold. But like one averting the evil eye, she had stuck to her brown apron and her boots. The cafe would be hers, the swimming pool, the cinema. All the market place would be hers before she died. I was moved with high contempt and deep pity, feverish triumph and chilly fear.