He began wandering the streets again in a daze, as if his senses had been stupefied by a shot of morphine. He had nowhere to go. The anguish of his feelings reached his conscious mind dimly, as if through a fog. From time to time he became aware of a need to go to Lotte and speak to her frankly — she had to be made to understand that it wasn’t his fault … How could she blame him for even a fraction of a second? He wasn’t to know how far things had gone … But now that he realised the seriousness of the situation — obviously, it went without saying — he was completely free to do whatever he felt like … And he had plenty of spare time too: he didn’t have to look after Martin anymore … He could go to Italy, or anywhere else; it was up to Lotte to choose. It was only a question of getting a passport and so on … He would leave Thea a note … Or perhaps he wouldn’t leave anything … As long as she, Lotte, agreed to wait a few more days … only a few more days … And also: not to go on lying there like that; he begged her to stop lying there like that. She couldn’t travel anywhere lying down — surely she could understand that for herself … Besides, she must have all kinds of things to do, to prepare herself for the trip … And Thea — ah, how sorry she would be when she saw that the bird had flown the cage, ha-ha-ha! Gurdweill stopped his distracted wandering for a moment and laughed aloud. He was standing on Radetzkyplatz, a fact of which he was quite unaware. Then he hurried off again, talking to himself and gesticulating as she walked. What an idiot that Ulrich was! Thinking he could pull the wool over his, Gurdweill’s, eyes — that would be the day! — when he was the only one who knew how matters really stood. How astonished everyone would be: all of a sudden he would be gone! ‘Where’s Gurdweill? He’s gone to Italy! Turned up trumps in the end, that Gurdweill! We always knew he had something in him!’ …

‘And guess what, dearest, I’ve got a little money of my own as well! Yesterday my sister sent me something from America, and I’m expecting a cheque from my publisher as well. We can leave tomorrow! The money will be enough for our travelling expenses, and after that we’ll see … It’s a pity Martin can’t come with us, though! Dr Ostwald won’t allow it, I’m sure … But it doesn’t matter a bit: we’ll be able to come and visit him from time to time. It’s not so far, after all!’