She had not made up her mind yet. But probably to Achensee or Zell am See. In any case, to the Tyrol. Yes, this year she pined for the Tyrol. As for the rest — she always made up her mind at the last minute, when she bought her ticket, leaving her exact destination in the lap of the gods. Who knew, she might not go to either of the places she had mentioned, but to Zillertal, or Mayrhofen, for example — it would all become clear at the last minute.

Something warm stirred in Gurdweill’s heart as she spoke of her approaching trip. He suddenly realised that Lotte was very dear to him, and that she would be a part of his soul forever. He would not have been able to give her up easily if she were going away for long. True, he did not see her very often, but the certainty that she was somewhere close at hand, kind and caring, and that he could see her whenever he wanted to, had a reassuring effect on him. ‘And what if she were suddenly to die …’ The thought came unexpectedly into his head, as if it had crawled through some crack into his consciousness, and he was so horrified that he came to a standstill. Why should he think of death now, and in connection with Lotte of all people, who was young and apparently perfectly healthy? Appalled, he tried to banish the thought from his mind by dwelling on the pleasure of strolling through Cobenzl on such a wonderful evening, as one tries to mask a bad odour by spraying scented water in the room — but he was unable to recover his balance. The thought of Lotte’s death retreated into a corner of his mind, and went on spreading its secret poison through his soul. Gurdweill’s mood was spoiled.

‘Why so glum all of a sudden, Gurdweill?’ asked Lotte, who had noticed the sombre expression on his face.

‘On the contrary, I’m not glum at all!’ replied Gurdweill, and tried to smile.

‘No wonder he’s worried: he’s a father now!’ Dr Astel joked.