much, as my wife was quickly becoming a wonderful cook, and the early serving of goose might keep me from overeating later, a new practice that was leading me to some heft. She had sent our cook to visit her family, with the ulterior motive of impressing me with culinary skills of which I was unaware when we married. She certainly required no additional help on cook’s days off. “With the affairs of state done, and with the day being a holiday at the bank, I was allowed to return home sooner than usual, around four. I must have seemed pensive, for my wife asked me: “‘Pray tell, dear, what has got you so morose?’ “I had not realized that I was brooding, but it was true. I feared that the little girl, who had been so kind and cheerful in the summer, would now suffer either from the elements or at the hand of a cruel parent. I told my wife what I had seen. “She dropped into the soup pot the spoon with which she was stirring, and a splash of broth surged over the edge, causing the fire to hiss. A delicious odor filled the room. In spite of myself, my appetite awakened. “‘How could you do nothing for a defenseless child?’ she exclaimed. I had never seen her take such a firm stance in a situation that did not concern her directly. “‘I was not in control of the carriage. I—’ “‘But you control your heart, do you not?’ “‘I do, my dearest, but as my father says—’ “‘Bah! Your father is a banker. I suppose he said that the child would be better off dead.’ “‘Not quite,’ I replied, somewhat weakly. Then I raised myself to my full height. ‘You forget, my love, that I am also a banker.’ “‘And I’ll cure you of thinking like one, when it comes to children. How will you live with yourself if the child is beaten again?’
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“In truth, I was wondering that myself, but all I could do was hold my hands out to plead for mercy. “‘Well,’ she said, rather than asked. “‘Well what, my love?’ “‘Are you going to seek her, to ensure that she arrived home despite her poor frozen little feet?’ “I looked outside. Warm and cozy as our house was, it kept me from desiring to step into the dark streets that were now acquiring a layer of snow. She read my mind. “‘Shall I go, then, Moritz?’ she asked. That was enough for me. “‘No, I am going out to look for traces of her.’ For this sentiment, I received an enthusiastic kiss, as well as the obvious admiration of my young wife. “I pulled on my boots and my greatcoat, and, as an afterthought, I splashed a bit of brandy into a flask and shoved it into my pocket. Perhaps the spirits would keep me warm. Then, before I could change my mind, I opened the door to brave the weather. “As painful as the wind was, accompanied by little needles of snow that reddened my cheeks immediately, I felt pleased with myself for going out. My wife could not fault me if I did not find the girl, who was probably at home, though she might be wishing she had stayed out. My foray would ease my conscience, and I could celebrate a new year’s arrival in peace. “Logic pointed me in the direction of the bank, where I had so often seen the child. The streets were desolate; only the desperate and the foolish walked them. That left me the foolish one, and I hoped not to find that someone truly desperate walked them barefoot. “And yet, among the brightly lit houses, on a street where the scent of roasted goose pervaded even the frigid outdoor air, I heard voices in conversation. I turned the corner, and in an alcove between houses, I