‘Where are you going, Rudolfus?’

With an archness that may have hidden some slight embarrassment, she introduced them: ‘Rudolfus Gurdweill, my intended, a young writer with a promising future, and Dr Ostwald, my general.’

‘General — you exaggerate, madam,’ protested Dr Ostwald with a modest smile.

‘Why don’t you come home with me, rabbit?’ Thea suggested. And when she saw him hesitate, she added, ‘See us to the tram, anyway. You’re not in a hurry, are you? You can decide then.’

They set off. Dr Ostwald walked with a confident gait, full of a sense of his own importance, as if to say: ‘Here walks the famous, successful lawyer, to whom the mysteries of the universe are as familiar as the palm of his hand. He says nothing, but everyone knows …’ He offered Gurdweill a Corona from a gold cigar case — with a slightly patronising air, as if he were a younger friend. They exchanged a few polite, insignificant remarks. Gurdweill rather regretted the whole business. He didn’t like being with Thea in the company of anyone else. Strangers acted as a kind of barrier between them. And Thea herself, whenever anyone else was with them, seemed different, not the way he knew her. She spoke differently, laughed differently — and he didn’t want to see her like that. Even in the company of her family she was not the same Thea.

When they reached the Opera, the lawyer, who was travelling in the opposite direction, said goodbye. Thea and Gurdweill stood and waited for the tram. Gurdweill had not yet decided whether to go with her or not. He wanted two contradictory things: to be with her and to remain by himself. As always when he had difficulty in making up his mind, he knew that it was best to let events take their course. At the last moment the issue would resolve itself, either by an inner instinct, which with blind, groping feelers always sought what was right and best for him, or by the intervention of some unexpected external factor that had not yet been taken into account.

Thea asked him what he thought of her ‘general’.

‘He seems like a decent chap. But a bit of a snob, I should imagine. Although,’ he added after a second’s pause, ‘you can’t really judge by first impressions.’

‘Your verdict is right in general, rabbit. But sometimes he loses control of himself. And then he’s like a different person. He’s got secret appetites, all nicely wrapped up and hidden away under that elegant suit. In any case, he’s not uninteresting when you know him well. So, are you coming or not?’ she asked as she saw the tram approaching.

‘No.’ The word escaped from his lips.

‘Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, I’ve got a job, from tomorrow,’ he added when she was already on the tram.