Gurdweill’s face was now as red as if it had been scalded. And there were two streams of perspiration sticking a few hairs across his forehead like threads and trickling down to his jaws. He was now walking slowly, swaying on his feet, along the Gürtel, near Westbahnhof. The sun had completely disappeared behind the clouds. The wind was colder now and there was a chill in the air. A train must have just arrived, since crowds of people were emerging from the station and crossing the square in front of him, some with suitcases or baskets in their hands, and others with haversacks on their shoulders. It was half past three in the afternoon. There was a smell in the air of smoke and coal from an invisible engine. Gurdweill reached the park opposite the railway station and sank onto a bench. For a while he sat there looking at the train passengers crossing the park on their way to the tram stop without seeing them. Suddenly his teeth began to chatter, and he got up and began walking again, shivering with cold. He crossed Mariahilfer Strasse and was almost run over by a speeding car, whose driver stuck his head out of the window to shower him with abuse when he reached the other side of the road. But none of this seemed to touch Gurdweill. He probably did not even hear the driver’s angry curses. A street opened up in front of him. Faint with weariness, he dragged himself along it with the last of his strength. The thought that he had a room and a bed somewhere and that he could go home to them did not even cross his mind. He came out in Gumpendorfer Strasse and turned unthinkingly to the left, towards the city centre. After he had taken about a hundred steps down the street, someone suddenly barred his way. Without raising his head, he was about to step mechanically aside, when someone suddenly seized him by the arm.

‘Good Lord!’ cried Franzi Mitteldorfer in horror. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

Gurdweill raised his bewildered, bloodshot eyes without appearing to recognise her. He said nothing.

‘You have a high fever!’ said the young woman. ‘You must go to bed right away. Come with me. You can lie down and rest at our place, and afterwards I’ll take you home.’

And she took his arm and led him away. Gurdweill followed her obediently. Although he recognised her, he did not speak to her. He did not speak because of his great weariness and also because he had nothing to say. He climbed the stairs laboriously, supported by the young woman, and entered the house. She led him to the sofa.

‘Here you are! Lie down and rest for a while, you poor thing. Put your feet up, don’t worry — that’s right!’