‘Nothing, nothing!’ he whispered as if to himself, and immediately added, ‘It must be the crowds …’

Thea and Dr Astel walked on ahead, with Lotte and Gurdweill following. They passed under the railway bridge and entered the Hauptallee, where the widely spaced streetlamps cast a pale, insignificant light in the dense darkness rising from the clumps of trees bordering the avenue. It was a cool, starry evening, and here the chilly air was slightly damp. The further they penetrated into the avenue, the more muffled the clamouring voices of the Volksprater sounded, like the distant roar of some gigantic factory. Lotte and Gurdweill walked in silence. Here and there the smothered laughter of hidden lovers broke out of the trees. From time to time a solitary policeman loomed unexpectedly out of the darkness, just like one of the gangsters against whom he was supposed to protect them — popping up under their noses as if he had sprung straight out of the ground, staring grimly into their faces, and then crossing to the other side of the road.

Suddenly Lotte said in a gentle voice: ‘I thought about you often, Gurdweill. Over there in the mountains. I had a lot of time to think, and the stern silence of the mountains is conducive to thought. I thought that your fate will be a hard one, an extraordinary one …’

She paused for a moment and then went on. ‘I don’t know why, but ever since we met I’ve sensed something dark and mysterious about your being, of which you yourself may not even be aware. Perhaps I could call it “your metaphysical being”… I’ve never felt anything like it in anyone else. And it makes me feel afraid. Not afraid of you, but afraid for you. Recently this fear has become more frequent, almost constant. Not like before, when it would flash through my mind and then go away again immediately. Now it’s settled down inside me and it won’t go away … Sometimes when I’m busy doing something, reading a book, sewing, talking to someone — all of a sudden I become very upset, for no obvious reason, and soon afterwards the fear comes into my mind: “Perhaps something’s happened to him!” And I can’t rest until I’ve seen you or found out that nothing’s happened. It’s as if you’re in some permanent danger …’

‘Not a moment’s peace,’ thought Gurdweill. ‘Wherever I go it’s always the same.’ But Lotte’s warm words did something to dispel his loneliness and depression nevertheless.

Unconsciously he gave the girl’s arm a grateful squeeze. With a pretence of gaiety he exclaimed, ‘Nonsense, Lotte! There’s nothing for you to worry about. What can happen to a wicked old man like me?’