Gurdweill pottered about helplessly. ‘Take your manuscripts,’ said his wife with a sneer, ‘here’s something they’re good for at last.’

Gurdweill did not reply. He climbed onto a chair and stretched out his hand to search on top of the wardrobe.

‘Will you get a move on, Rudolfus!’ Thea goaded him. ‘Light the lamp first, donkey, so that you can see what you’re doing!’

He climbed down and lit the lamp. Then he went to ask the landlady for old newspapers, and came back and kneeled in front of the stove again. He had to clean out all the coal and twigs and begin again. Thea walked around the room like a stranger. From time to time, however, she glanced in her husband’s direction and issued various directions to his back.

When he finally succeeded in lighting the fire, Thea said in a tone of command: ‘And now, Rudolfus, hurry up and go downstairs! What else do we need? We’ve still got coffee and sugar. Buy chestnuts, half a kilo of chestnuts, don’t forget! And rice, do you hear? And a little cinnamon too. And take the milk bottle with you. And buy some sprats — but good ones! Not like last time. Well, I think that’s all. Oh yes, cigarettes, I almost forgot. Get Khedives, fifty, don’t forget! And hurry up about it!’

Gurdweill huddled into his old coat and left. When he returned after about half an hour, laden with packages and covered with wet snow, he found his wife still in her hat and coat, just as he had left her.

‘What on earth have you done to the stove?’ she said in greeting, even before he had had time to unload his parcels and shake the snow off his coat. ‘It’s not giving off any heat at all! Don’t just stand there — go and see what’s wrong!’

Gurdweill went over to the stove just as he was, bent down, and opened the door. A blast of heat hit him in the face, which instantly turned red. The snow on his hat began melting and dripping off the brim.

‘What do you want?’ he ventured to ask. ‘It’s burning perfectly. It couldn’t be burning any better.’

‘What do I care if it’s burning! I want it to be hot — make it hot!’

‘It takes a while. You yourself know what the stove’s like. Once it gets going it will be nice and warm.’

He threw another shovelful of coal from the sack into the stove, shut the door, and straightened up. A few little puddles of melted snow from his clothes and shoes remained on the floor.

‘Where are the cigarettes?’

He took the two dark-blue boxes out of his pocket and handed them to Thea, who opened one of them and stuck a cigarette into her mouth.

‘Did you bring pork chops?’

‘No, you didn’t tell me to.’