Lotte sat weeping silently. The tears poured down her cheeks, one after the other, and she made no effort to wipe them away or to stop their flow. No one in the world could have consoled her. At that moment Lotte felt utterly abandoned, alone in the middle of the night in the big, black world with a man who was not only drunk but infatuated with another woman, a woman who tormented him and made his life a misery. Gurdweill lay down on the sofa, his head in her lap, and in a moment he was fast asleep. Lotte was flooded with pity both for herself and for this dear tormented soul, sleeping in her lap like a baby. She bent over him and pressed her lips to his hair. Then she got up carefully and placed a dark-red velvet cushion under his head, went over to the window, and looked out at the empty street. From the next room the voices of Thea and Dr Astel became audible again. Lotte dried her eyes and went and sat at the table. The two of them entered the room.

‘Look, Rudolfus has fallen asleep! We must go home, it’s late,’ said Thea, and shook Gurdweill without succeeding in waking him.

‘Let him stay here,’ intervened Lotte. ‘Why drag him home when he’s so tired?’

‘It’s all the same to me — if the Doktor’s got no objections, that is.’

‘But of course, Thea, of course! You can stay too, if you wish. You can both sleep in my bedroom, and I’ll make up my bed on the sofa.’

Thea refused. She could not get a decent night’s rest except in her own bed.

The two women therefore put on their coats and hats, and Dr Astel went out with them to accompany them on their way.

14

14

The window overlooking the small courtyard reflected a murky autumn day, assailing the soul like a heavy fog. On the ruddy brick wall opposite the solitary, invisible palace that had somehow landed up in this commercial courtyard in the heart of the city, a vague, blurred shadow had been cast; and the frequent shifting of this shadow seemed to indicate that a strong wind was blowing outside, one of those blustering winds typical of the city.