The woman looked at me aggressively. ‘Me? I didn’t beat her. No children are beaten here. I have parental authority over the children, and I have it in writing. How dare you? I keep a disciplined and orderly establishment . . . I don’t want you inciting the children against me! That’s my house!’ she suddenly screamed and pointed at the building.

‘That may be so,’ I said, ‘but there’s something wrong here – the girl comes running up to us scared to death . . .’

The woman made a grab for the child, tiny points of flame blazing in her green eyes.

‘You’re coming with me now,’ she said to the child. ‘Straight away! And you’re clearing off! Now!’

‘It would be nice if you would speak a little more civilly,’ said Karlchen.

‘I’m not talking to you anyway,’ said the woman.

The Princess had bent down again, and was wiping the tears off the child’s pale, drained face.

‘What are you whispering to the child?’ screamed the woman. ‘You’re not to whisper. You aren’t responsible for her, I am. I am the headmistress here – I am! I!’ Those blazing eyes . . . She radiated heat.

‘I think we’ll let the lady – ’ said Karlchen. The woman grabbed at the child again, she tore at her as if she were a thing; I sensed it wasn’t the girl who was at stake, so much as her power over the girl. The child was green with fear, she was being pulled along behind her; no one said anything. They had reached the house. I gestured feebly, as if to stop them . . . the two disappeared through the big door, the door closed, a key grated in the lock. It was all over.

There we stood.

‘How about that . . .’ said Karlchen. The Princess put away her handkerchief.

‘You’re a pair of prize idiots!’ she said forcefully.

‘All right,’ I said, ‘but why?’

‘Come with me.’

We went a little way into the wood.

‘You . . .’ said the Princess. ‘We can’t just fight it out, I do see that. But we want to help the child, don’t we? Well, and so what’s the mother’s name?’

‘Collin. Frau Collin.’ I said very proudly.

‘Right – and how do you want to help?’ She was right. We didn’t have the address. Zurich . . . Zurich . . . what else had the child said?

The Princess continued, ‘I whispered to her that we would pass the house in half an hour, and she was to try to get the address to us on a bit of paper. I’m sure it won’t work–the poor child is so petrified as it is. But we’ll see . . . What an old dragon, though! She really does spit fire!’

‘Magnificent woman,’ said Karlchen. ‘There’s someone I’d like to marry! I mean . . . what I mean is . . .’