Heidelberger’s wife, who was unaccustomed to being addressed as ‘gnädige Frau’, was evidently impressed. She paused for a moment in her work, stationed herself in front of him with her bosom swelling, and said, for some reason lowering her voice, ‘Surely you’re not serious, Herr Doktor! It will be an insult to me if you don’t stay and eat with us. Franzl will blame me for it. He’ll say that I don’t know how to behave myself in society. Why bring shame on our humble home, Herr Doktor?’

She seemed to be making an effort to speak the kind of language she had heard in the houses of her domestic employment, without any admixture of common Viennese slang, and gave the impression of reciting some lesson she had learned by heart in a foreign tongue for which she did not normally have any use.

In the meantime Heidelberger came in, clean and spruce with his moustache neatly combed. His wife appealed to him. ‘Franzl, the Herr Doktor refuses to stay and have supper with us. You talk to him —’

‘That’s enough!’ he interrupted her. ‘You do your work and don’t poke your nose in when nobody asked for your opinion!’

He sent her to fetch three tankards of beer from the tavern, and while she was gone he engaged Gurdweill in conversation, overwhelmingly friendly and garrulous as ever, asking his name and religion, and telling him boastfully that he was a foreman in a big machine factory, and earned a handsome wage. Gustl returned with the beer, and they pulled their chairs up to the table. Heidelberger ate heartily, with evident relish and appreciation of every dish. From time to time he urged his guest in his gruff voice, speaking with his mouth full: ‘Eat up, Herr Doktor, eat up! Eating comes first, I always say, and everything else comes afterwards!’

Although Gurdweill was not hungry he ate everything on his plate in order not to give offence, and heaped praise on the food — which was, in fact, very well prepared — to the delight of Gustl, who beamed with gratification.

‘Didn’t I tell you?’ her husband chimed in. ‘Didn’t I tell you she was a first-rate cook? You have to give her that! Say what you like about her — but that’s one thing she knows how to do. A woman who can’t cook and keep house isn’t worth tuppence — that’s what I say and nobody can deny it!’