“You silly clod!” The man’s voice rang out again and Ruth opened her eyes with a start. “How can anyone be so stupid? The bedspreads, I said! The bedspreads! Not the pillows!”
Ruth breathed out. She couldn’t see who he was yelling at this time, but at least it wasn’t her. Only then did she realize that she was standing at the back of the hotel. There were half a dozen washing lines stretched across its narrow backyard, all hung with shabby-looking pillows that had odd stains and not enough stuffing. Among them stood a chambermaid, almost hidden from view by the towering figure of the hotelier standing in front of her.
When the man left, the young woman began to take the pillows down from the lines. Ruth looked at her over the fence. She had small eyes and her mouth was set in a grim line that didn’t suit her rosy cheeks. Ruth cleared her throat.
“Your boss seems to be a harsh taskmaster.”
The maid turned her head. “So? What’s that to do with you?” she spat.
“Nothing at all,” Ruth said with disarming honesty. “It’s just that I got on the wrong side of him myself a few minutes ago.”
The girl looked at her mistrustfully but didn’t ask any questions. She continued to tug at the pillows, pulling them off the line without bothering to unclip the pegs.
Ruth told her what had happened anyway. “I was sitting there on the bench as quiet as a mouse. I only wanted to wait for someone.” Tears sprang to her eyes again at the thought of all her wasted effort. She fished a handkerchief from her purse and blew her nose.
“That’s a fine necklace you’ve got,” the chambermaid said, having obviously decided to talk to Ruth after all.
“Do you think so? My sister made it. She’s very clever at that sort of thing.” Ruth recognized the greed in the young woman’s eyes. “Here! Why don’t you try it on?” It only took her a moment to open the clasp and she held out the necklace over the fence.
“May I really?”
Ruth stretched her arm out farther. “Would I have offered otherwise? I know it will suit you nicely.” She swung the necklace from side to side.
At last the girl reached out, taking it as reverently as if she held the emperor’s crown.
“I’ve never had a piece of jewelry like this. Just a clasp for my hair. I could never buy myself anything as lovely as this with the money that old skinflint pays me!”
Ruth’s heart beat faster. “If you like, you can have the necklace, I just need you to do me a little favor . . .”
A short while later, as the hotelier was on his way to the bank, Ruth went into the hotel through the service entrance. She followed her guide swiftly across the worn parquet floor and up a narrow staircase. Keys rattled and a door opened.
“This could cost me my job, so whatever you do, don’t get caught!” the chambermaid whispered as she peered over her shoulder at the stairs.
Before Ruth could thank the girl, the door shut behind her. And Ruth was standing in Frank Winfield Woolworth’s room.
The next few hours were at least as nerve-racking as the day spent in the baking sunshine. The longer Ruth waited there alone, the more scared she felt by the sheer effrontery of what she was doing.
It must have been about eight o’clock in the evening when she heard voices in the corridor. Ruth’s heart began to beat wildly. What if they thought she had broken in? That she was a burglar? Where should she be standing when the man came in? At the window? Right by the door? By the table where she had set out Marie’s baubles on a white cloth she had brought with her? As the voices drew nearer she hurried over to the table. Dear God, please don’t let him throw me out immediately, she prayed silently.
“Actually, I agree with you,” she heard a man’s voice saying in measured tones. “But with all the expenses . . .” A key fumbled in the lock.
Please, God, make . . .
The door opened. A man came in and stopped, rooted to the spot, surprised and clearly angered as well.
“What the heck are you doing in my room?”
Ruth didn’t need a translation.
“I’ve come from Lauscha,” she replied in German. “I . . .”
Ruth hardly ever prayed but she began again now. Dear God, let him understand German. She gestured helplessly and swallowed. Her throat was dry. “I’d like to show you something.” She pointed to the table and tried to smile. “Christmas globes.”
Woolworth stared at her uncomprehendingly and with a distinctly unfriendly look on his face.
She clenched her hands around the back of a chair, just in case he planned to throw her out of the room.
Then another man walked in.