Gurdweill was by now seething with suppressed rage. What a buffoon the man was — and what a scoundrel! He said curtly: ‘I’ve already told you that I don’t write at all. In any case, it’s irrelevant. I came to see you, sir, on another matter entirely.’

‘Of course, of course,’ Dr Kreindel cut him short, and even gave him a friendly pat on the back. ‘I know very well what you came for. Don’t upset yourself, Herr Gold — er, Gurdweill! We’ll come to that, of course. There’s plenty of time for that! More than enough. It doesn’t take me long to wrap up worldly matters — a couple of minutes one way or the other — that’s my nature! But the spiritual side of things is something else entirely! Here, time means nothing to me: we can chat at our leisure, like old friends! You understand me, Herr Gurdweill, you understand me very well, I know you do, hee-hee-hee. Both of us are intelligent, well-educated people — no, no, don’t demur, sir, that’s the exact truth of the matter: intelligent, well-educated people! I insist upon it! This is the correct definition of what we are and what we have in common. In addition to which, we’re the same age too. You, sir, are twenty-eight or -nine, according to my estimation, and I am thirty-two years old — in other words, as close as makes no difference! And the main thing is: we understand each other. It isn’t every day that you have the good fortune to meet a man, hmm, a man on your own level … not so, Herr Gurdweill? As Schiller put it so well: A soul may sometimes seek its mate for a generation without … hee-hee-hee …’

Gurdweill sat looking at him throughout this speech, and it suddenly seemed very strange to him that he should be sitting there and listening to the nonsense of this man with his gold teeth and malicious smile. Gurdweill’s face was paler than usual and there was a dull gleam in his eyes. He felt a painful emptiness in his skull, as if there were a hollow space inside it and a cold wind was blowing through it. His silver-knobbed cane was standing between his legs and he fingered it unconsciously. For some reason he remembered his quarrel with Thea’s two acquaintances the night before, and he was overcome by distress. He must have been really drunk. He had made a fool of himself in front of Thea. No — the idea flashed through his mind, as if it were in some way connected to yesterday’s fiasco — no, there was no hope of getting a job from this man!

He stood up and said decisively: ‘I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry. I would like to know if I may hope to obtain employment here, or if I should look elsewhere.’