A pleasant, pungent smell of cured hides and freshly dyed cloth wafted out of the open warehouse doors. All around there was a sense of people busy at work, of quiet, strenuous effort, and Gurdweill felt an urge to go up to the labourers and help them load the crates, to lend a hand and shoulder and overcome the resistance of the heavy load. At that moment he saw himself as an outcast, excluded from the masses of humanity helping to keep the world going. Like all those unfit for crude physical labour, he imagined that it was the only way to achieve perfect fulfilment. Gurdweill stood at a distance and watched the workers enviously. No, of course he could not compete with men like these! He glanced contemptuously at his thin, short body, which seemed to him to be made of nerves and brains alone, and moved away. He had not taken more than a few steps when it seemed to him that he heard someone calling his name. He turned his head but could not see anyone he knew. He set off again and suddenly felt a slap on his shoulder.

‘Servus, Gurdweill!’ cried Dr Astel jovially from behind his back. ‘How are you? Did you go there this morning?’

‘I went.’

‘And what happened?’ enquired Dr Astel, bending his long thin body over Gurdweill.

‘Nothing happened.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He told me to come again in two weeks’ time. In the meantime he’ll think it over.’

‘To hell with him! The hypocritical scoundrel!’

Only now Gurdweill noticed Lotte Bondheim, who was waiting a few steps away. As he went up to the girl he managed to ask Astel in a whisper if he had any money, and to get a positive reply.

‘Where were you going, Gurdweill?’ asked Lotte.

‘I was just wandering around the streets,’ he lied, for no particular reason.

‘In that case, why don’t you come with us? We’re going to the Prater.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Dr Astel hastened to agree, although he didn’t seem delighted by the idea. ‘The three of us will go to enjoy the splendours of nature!’

They walked to Franz-Josefs-Kai to take a tram.