Thea took off her black felt hat and threw it onto the bed. After pushing her straight flaxen hair back with a practised hand, she looked like a plucked chicken. Thea was far from beautiful, and some people might even have considered her ugly. Her ugliness was particularly striking now that she had removed her hat and pushed her hair severely off her brow. Her colourless face seemed naked. It was a long face, with a rather high forehead. The distance between her little snub nose and her flat, rectangular chin seemed immense, taking up almost half her face, a blank, empty space hardly interrupted by her inconspicuous lips. Something was lacking in this space — perhaps a big moustache …

Thea lit a cigarette from the flame of the oil lamp, pulled up a chair opposite Lotte, and sat down and crossed her legs.

‘You have a new hat, I see. A bit too light for you, I think. A darker one would suit you better …’

‘No,’ said Lotte. ‘I tried a darker one and it didn’t suit me. Besides, everyone thinks that this one looks good on me. It’s the men’s opinion that counts …’ And she smiled.

‘The men’s opinion? What do men understand?’ Thea protested. ‘The men have been smitten with blindness,’ she pronounced in biblical style, and winked at Dr Astel.

‘Come, come, Thea, don’t exaggerate,’ said the latter. ‘What is female beauty for if not for men? I’d like to see you get along without men.’

‘We would manage without them very well, I assure you.’

‘Maybe you would, as an exception to the rule. But other women wouldn’t agree with you.’

‘What’s the point of all these silly arguments?’ Gurdweill intervened. ‘Men and women were created for each other, they need each other, and that’s all there is to it.’

‘And you, Lotte,’ said Thea half seriously and half mockingly, ‘aren’t you thinking of getting married soon? It seems to me that I heard some rumour to that effect …’

‘I’ll have to consult you about it first.’ Lotte smiled. ‘With all your experience … already married for six months!’

‘My experience is confined to the rabbit, which is hardly a basis for generalisation. Or perhaps you intend marrying him? That, I certainly couldn’t recommend!’

Gurdweill was not enjoying the conversation. He smiled in embarrassment and gazed at his shoes as if they held the solution to some perplexing riddle. The couch suddenly felt hard and uncomfortable.

‘You’re no basis for generalisations either, Thea,’ said Dr Astel jokingly. ‘What’s wrong for you may be just right for some other woman …’

‘Have you got a cigarette?’ Gurdweill interrupted him, noisily getting to his feet.

He took the cigarette and stationed himself next to the table, leaning against the bed head.

‘Guess who I met this afternoon, rabbit — Perczik. He sent you his regards. We went for a little walk together. A ridiculous person …’