Public places, thought Gurdweill, which were intended for crowds of people, were very depressing when they were empty and deserted, littered with the debris of lives that had moved on: squashed cigarette stubs, used tickets, crumpled newspapers, etc. They gave rise to a feeling of pity and horror at once. The same thing applied to the post office at night, cinema halls, cafés, theatres, circuses, and so on.

Above the opposite windows he read advertisements for the spring exhibition at the Sezession, which was already over; for the Sixth Vienna Fair, which was to take place in the autumn; for Suchard chocolate and Gillette razor blades; for the great new star of the theatre, Roneggar; for a fantastic new sewing machine; for the biggest ‘mobile house’ in the world; for Der Tag — ‘Buy it and read it!’, etc. He needed none of these things. He read absent-mindedly, taking in only enough to absorb the tedium behind the words. Some of the advertisements had come unstuck and flapped irritatingly against the windowpanes.

Gurdweill stole a sidelong look at Lotte, who was sitting next to him. She seemed tired and relaxed. He remembered the idea of her possible death that had come into his mind several hours before, and felt the same horror as then. But he immediately recovered and told himself that his fears were silly and irrational. If one were to take every passing notion of the kind seriously, there would be no end to it! Still, it would be a good thing if she were to marry Dr Astel: married life, when you got right down to it, settled people’s minds. The little everyday worries did something to fill the void. He felt the need to say something to Lotte to erase the bad impression that he was certain that he had made on her. But at the same time he was afraid of blurting out some idiotic remark that would spoil everything, as he had sometimes done in the past. And as soon as the fear had entered his mind, he knew that he was doomed to say something he would regret. And he knew exactly what it was too. Precisely the thing that it was forbidden to say now. For a moment he tried to struggle with himself, although he knew it was in vain. He could not sit still and began to fidget on his seat. He moved away from Lotte and crossed his legs. In the end he could control himself no longer. He moved abruptly back to Lotte and blurted out with a strange haste, as if eager to rid himself of something vile: ‘Are you afraid of death, Lotte?’