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Back The Woman on the Stairs Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Bernhard Schlink
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Part One
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. Part Two
  33. 1
  34. 2
  35. 3
  36. 4
  37. 5
  38. 6
  39. 7
  40. 8
  41. 9
  42. 10
  43. 11
  44. 12
  45. 13
  46. 14
  47. 15
  48. 16
  49. 17
  50. 18
  51. 19
  52. 20
  53. 21
  54. 22
  55. 23
  56. 24
  57. 25
  58. Part Three
  59. 1
  60. 2
  61. 3
  62. 4
  63. 5
  64. 6
  65. 7
  66. 8
  67. 9
  68. 10
  69. 11
  70. 12
  71. 13
  72. 14
  73. 15
  74. 16
  75. 17
  76. 18
  77. 19
  78. 20
  79. 21
  80. 22
  81. Author’s Note
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Don’t interrupt me!” He needed a moment to recover from his agitation at my impertinence. “Impressions can be deceiving. Doesn’t the painting make a good impression, though it’s cursed? What matters is not the impression that my wife makes, but that she’s lost her peace. And that she finds it again.”

I waited to see if he would continue. But he stood there and looked at the painting. “I don’t understand.”

He turned to me. “Schwind comes tomorrow. I’m supposed to give the restored painting my approval, as it were. If something happens to the painting before tomorrow, if Schwind then comes to you, if he comes without my wife, if he asks you to prepare a strange contract – do it. Even if you find it unsettling, it’s the right thing. Don’t we live in strange times? And contracts can be important, even if they can’t be enforced in court.”

I didn’t understand him, but didn’t want to say again that I didn’t understand him. He looked at me, laughed, took my arm again and led me back to the foyer. “Don’t take this personally, but lawyers tend to lack imagination. When I meet one who takes on challenges, I take note.”

10

On the drive home I knew I had fallen in love with Irene Gundlach.

I knew it though I had no experience in love. I’d liked our mathematics teacher, a small woman with lively eyes, a clear voice, and short skirts. Once I secretly stuck a red rose in the clamp on her bicycle rack. Then there was a classmate I couldn’t take my eyes off. Wherever I was in town, I hoped I would run into her, would talk to her – something I dared not do in school – and she would happily respond. Sometimes, day after day, I could think of nothing but her, what she might be doing, what I could do to be noticed and liked by her, and how it would be to be together. But when a difficult test loomed, for which I had to thoroughly prepare, I decided I would think no more about her until after the test. After that I thought of her no more. At law school, there were hardly any women students, and I did not meet women from other departments. Between semesters, I earned money for my studies working in a spare parts warehouse where, besides the forklift operators, and the other students, only women worked. They cracked lewd jokes about us men, and made obscene advances that left me embarrassed, and helpless about how to react. One of the women, I liked, quieter than the others, young, with dark hair and soulful eyes, and on my last day I waited for her at the warehouse gate. When she came out, she went straight across the street towards a young man who was leaning against a tree.