Lotte removed her hat and autumn coat and poured the drinks, playing the hostess. ‘She’s changed a little over the past few months,’ thought Gurdweill, observing her graceful movements, ‘she’s calmed down.’ And he was sorry, for some reason, that she had calmed down. She sat next to Gurdweill. They clinked glasses and drank, and then they drank again. Soon the drawing room became cosier; tongues were loosened and wagged without constraint. Dr Astel began telling jokes, indifferent by now to the fact that most of them were rather risqué for mixed company. He was an excellent raconteur, and everyone laughed loudly and freely, as if they had just been released from invisible chains. Gurdweill’s laughter rose above the rest, very shrill and piercing, and he went on laughing after the others had stopped. His excessive merriment seemed to stem not from the jokes themselves, but from some inner need to laugh, which had now found an outlet. He sat with his shoulders hunched and his head dropping onto his chest, shuddering with laughter. Anyone seeing him might have wondered how such a skinny little body could contain so much loud laughter. Thea leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs, clasped her hands behind her head, and gazed at some invisible point just below the ceiling. Her face was red. Lotte played mechanically with her empty glass, while Dr Astel played with the cigarette box and went on telling jokes.

After a while Dr Astel got up and fetched bigger glasses, which he filled with wine.

Gurdweill emptied his glass in one gulp, without looking at anyone. Then he let his head fall to his chest again and began humming a tune to himself.

‘Wake up, everybody!’ cried Thea. ‘Why so gloomy? Mark!’ (Lotte noticed that she called him by his first name.) ‘Rabbit! What’s the matter with you men?’

Gurdweill raised his head slightly and looked stupidly at his wife. He even smiled a hurt, foolish smile that looked more like a tearful grimace. Dr Astel started singing a popular ballad. His voice was pleasant, though not strong. He sang tastefully, flaring the nostrils of his huge nose. Thea hummed in her rather coarse, discordant voice. Then Lotte joined in too. But they sang without any real enthusiasm, as if they were under some obligation to do so, and in the end they fell silent.