He fell silent for a moment and then continued, ‘Don’t get married, young man … I urge you. As long as a woman isn’t sure of you she’s sweet as pie; you can twist her round your little finger. But the minute you put a ring on her finger — it’s all over! She begins kicking like a mule, and you can’t do a thing about it. It’s a law of nature, young man. Reason won’t get you anywhere with them. Am I right or not?’

‘Not all women are alike,’ ventured Gurdweill.

‘You think so? No, I say. They’re all the same!’ He took a gulp from his glass and repeated emphatically: ‘No! There’s not a scrap of difference!

‘Look at me,’ he added after a moment, and pointed at his grey, puffy face. ‘No, no, look properly. Well, what do you say? You can’t say I’m ugly, now can you? No one would believe you if you did! And look what happened to me. The first one, the late Fritzl, was only half of it. Here I was the swine. I was a real swine, I admit it frankly. But she too, that Fritzl, she wasn’t fit for a dog to eat, believe me. She had two, Herr Mentzl from the railways and the welder Poldy — two lovers aren’t a lot, I grant you. And when I came back from the Italian front in 1918, she was dead. She was a sweet soul, that Fritzl, but a real slut. Here — I won’t say a word. May God have mercy on her dust! Good! So I took Gustl … Won’t you have another, Herr Doktor? This time it’s on me! No, I insist! Schurl, bring the Herr Doktor another beer! So — now comes Gustl. “Gustl,” I say to her, “that’s it! Finished and done with! From now on you’ve got me to deal with — I’m telling you straight. And I know what I’m talking about! From now on men don’t exist as far as you’re concerned. Not one! You start with one, and before you know it it’s two, three, five — and there’s no end to it! And so, that’s it!” That’s what I told her, right? And what do you think, Herr Doktor? I’ll be damned if it helped!’

Gurdweill was feeling tired. He still had a long way to go home. But for some reason the man interested him.