‘Martin,’ replied Gurdweill, staring at Lotte, whose voice sounded dead and dull, as if she were in the depths of depression. But there was no sign of this in her face.

They moved off and began strolling silently down the avenue. They walked between the two rows of chairs, as far as the kiosk that sold cold drinks, then turned right next to the fence, circled back, and landed up on the other side of the round flowerbed. The oppressive heat had begun to lift; the evening would be cool and pleasant. And Gurdweill’s mood, too, grew light and airy. He was filled with a feeling of great, pure happiness. Young girls just past adolescence were sitting and reading romances in the middle of the park, marvelling at the astonishing similarity between themselves and the mysterious, refined heroines of their books. So absorbed were they that they did not even notice the young men passing them for the umpteenth time, devouring with their eyes their nubile freshness, blooming even more tenderly in the passionate absorption of their reading. There were young matrons too, sitting on the hired chairs and apparently waiting for their husbands to meet them on their way home from work. They were knitting or embroidering, and some of them were reading too, but with less innocent abandon than their younger sisters, half an eye open for any male glances that came their way. There were men of every sort, some of whose working lives were over: retired military men whose civilian clothes did nothing to obscure their former rank, and who bore their commanding white moustaches as proudly as medals won on the battlefield; retired businessmen in funny, old-fashioned hats and suits made to measure fifteen years before. There were others whose working lives had not yet begun: high-school pupils and university students. And others, who belonged to neither of the above categories and were spending their holidays sitting in the park because they could not afford the expense of going to a country or seaside resort. But outside, behind the wire mesh of the fence, the city surged and roared, trams dashed to and fro, cars hooted, heavy carts rumbled, people hurried God knew where, newspaper sellers yelled, and crippled soldiers begged for alms. The evening advanced steadily, its approach more clearly sensed inside the park than in the busy streets outside.

Gurdweill said to his companions: ‘What do you say to spending the evening somewhere out of town — Cobenzl, for example?’

Dr Astel and Lotte had no objections.

‘Why not?’ said Lotte. Especially since she did not have to be home for supper. In the summer their domestic arrangements were different. Besides which, she was going on holiday in a few days’ time, and that called for a farewell celebration, didn’t it?

On the way to the tram stop Gurdweill asked her where she was thinking of going this year.