Gurdweill seated himself on the edge of the couch, close to Lotte, gave her an enquiring, sidelong look, and said with a smile, ‘You’ve grown prettier, much prettier! And a new hat too, which suits you very well!’

‘What’s this, Gurdweill?’ Lotte laughed. ‘Are you beginning to pay me compliments in our old age? I never knew you so gallant before.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with compliments! I’m only saying what I think, without a trace of flattery.’

‘We all know that Lotte’s beautiful — it’s a well-known fact,’ said Dr Astel.

‘You too?’ cried Lotte archly. ‘The pair of you are conspiring against me!’

After that, she began to ask Gurdweill about the literary work he was currently engaged upon. A few weeks ago, when she was on her vacation, she had read the last story he had published, and it had made an unforgettable impression on her. It was an excellent story, absolutely first-rate — she meant every word! Dr Astel agreed with her, although he pointed out a few imperfections, which, while not detracting from the value of the story, he should nevertheless try to avoid. Gurdweill complained that he had no time to work. When he came home in the evening, he was exhausted and he couldn’t concentrate properly. And for this reason he was hardly getting anything done. He did not tell them, of course, that Thea had once torn up the manuscript of almost an entire story in a rage, and that ever since he had been obliged to work in secret, when she was sleeping or when she went out, and to hide his manuscripts from her. He did not tell them, but Dr Astel and Lotte sensed for themselves that Thea was to some extent to blame for his inability to work as he would have wished.

Suddenly Thea put in an unexpected appearance. She greeted Lotte like a long-lost friend, almost embraced her, and seemed delighted to see her.

‘I’m so glad to see you both!’ she said. ‘I was thinking about you only a moment ago in the street.’

Gurdweill was pleased that she had chosen precisely this moment to come home. He was a little uneasy himself about meeting her after what had happened, and he imagined that the presence of strangers would be especially welcome to Thea, since she would surely be even more ashamed than he was.

But Thea showed no sign of shame. She seemed to have forgotten the entire affair. Turning to her husband she said, ‘Why haven’t you offered our guests a cup of tea, rabbit?’ Her voice was gentle, and a wave of warmth flooded his heart.

‘I offered them tea and they refused. But I can make some now. I’d be glad to.’

The guests refused again.