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Show 107 "Certainly I care for her, and for all the children of Hamelin. It is in my best interest to keep them healthy, happy and strong. But let me remind you," he said, stabbing me with his finger and his words, "Whatever happens to Hilde is your fault, because you did not obey me." I slumped and pressed my face against my knees to hide my distress. "You worry too much, Geist," he remarked after a short silence. "There is nothing more for you to do now, nothing you can do. It is all in my hands." "A dog died the night before last," I muttered, my voice husky with anxiety. "It took fits and then it died. It was the small yellow dog which picked up the sweetmeat in the square." "The children will not die, if that is what troubles you," Gast answered. "In a few weeks they will be just as they were. I give you my word." "You gave me your word that they would not be harmed." "Are they harmed? No, they are not." His eyes blazed. "All the time you are questioning me! This conversation is no longer to my liking. You may leave." Wearily, I got to my feet and stumbled into the rain while behind me Gast threw his line into the river- My talk with him had accomplished nothing - there was a detachment about him which I had not been able to weigh against. Huncing my shoulders, I walked through the downpour to the bakery. When I reached the door I noticed that my shoes - the shoes which had been so finely-made and elegant to look at - were now bedraggled and muddy. |