“Everything’s a hundred percent in here, Dr. Nisan. When you ring the bell, I think maybe you have some problem. No? You are short something? Out of coffee again? Blown a fuse? I come and change it for you?”

“Thank you,” Fima said, “that’s very kind of you. I’ve got plenty of coffee and the electricity is working fine. It so happens my telephone is out of order, but I’m quite pleased, actually; it means I can have some peace and quiet at last. Sorry to bother you so early in the morning. I just thought . . . Never mind. Sorry. Thank you.”

“No problem,” said Pizanti expansively. “We always get up at sixfifteen anyway. If you need to make phone call, just feel free. On the house. If you like, I come down and check your contacts. Maybe something come loose.”

“I was thinking,” Fima said, appalled at the words he heard coming out of his own mouth, “of calling a lady friend of mine who may have been waiting for me since last night. Two lady friends, actually. But right now I think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to let them wait. It’s not urgent. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

As he was on the point of leaving, Mrs. Pizanti said hesitantly:

“It could be something fell down outside from the wind. Some washtub or something. But with us everything is fine.”

These words convinced Fima that he was being lied to. But he forgave his neighbors, because he had no reason to expect them to tell him about the fight they must have been having, and also because he himself had not told the truth about calling his girlfriends. When he was back in his flat, he said:

“What a fool you are.”

But he forgave himself too, because he had meant well.