By now they were already walking up the rather steep incline of Lerchenfelder Strasse. Lotte leaned with all her weight on Gurdweill’s arm. In a pleading tone she said, ‘But everyone wants a little happiness and peace of mind. Life can be so hard …’

And after a moment she went on warmly: ‘I don’t mind admitting that I’m an egoist. Should I be ashamed of it, Gurdweill? How many years have I got to live? I want to live them! To squeeze the last drop out of them! Perhaps it’s in the nature of a woman. But I can’t endure suffering. I’d even be capable of hurting my fellow men, if it would only help me to avoid suffering myself — I admit it freely. Does that make me wicked? Certainly no worse than others. And why should I be better than them? For that, one has to pay a price, to give up personal happiness, which I refuse to do … And I won’t be satisfied with a little either. I want it all! Everything that life can offer, I demand for myself! Because nothing else exists but for this life: I don’t believe in anything else and I don’t want to either! Life as it is, the life that reveals itself to us through our five senses, is good enough for me. Life is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful, and I want to enjoy it to the full!’

After this outburst they walked on in silence. When they were not far from Lotte’s home, she suddenly felt an urge to sit in a café for half an hour. She could spare another half an hour for him. And it would be a special pleasure for her — she added in a half-serious, half-joking tone — a rare treat, in view of the fact that they met so seldom nowadays. Gurdweill agreed willingly. He was even rather pleased by the invitation, since he was feeling tired and irritable and hoped to recover his spirits in the company of Lotte, who was now in a quiet, somewhat melancholy mood.