‘The spring weather is a little exhausting. This is the third time I’ve fainted this year. Fortunately for me, the two previous times, it happened when I was at home. My mother was there. I was standing in front of the wardrobe; it was in the afternoon. I wanted to get dressed and take the baby out for a walk. And all of a sudden I felt as if the room and the furniture were about to collapse. The wardrobe was teetering; it was going to fall right on top of me. And a kind of tongue, a long, pointed, dark-purple tongue, began dancing in front of me, reaching out to touch my face and filling me with an inexpressible fear. After that, everything was blotted out. I woke up on the sofa with a terrible pain in my right elbow. My mother was standing next to me. At first I couldn’t understand why I was lying on the sofa and I wanted to get up. But I didn’t have the strength. I had to go on lying down for another half an hour.’

‘But my dear lady, haven’t you been to see a doctor?’ asked Gurdweill compassionately.

‘The doctor says that I’m suffering from general exhaustion and anaemia. An after-effect from the birth of my son. He says I should go to the country to convalesce for a few months. But times are hard. My husband isn’t earning much at the moment. I can’t afford such luxuries.

‘Before, on Karlsplatz,’ the woman continued, after a short silence, ‘I felt a sudden panic at the crowds and the traffic. I suddenly had the feeling that the cars and wagons were leaving the street and coming onto the pavement, onto me. I was about to turn around and run … and what happened after that you already know, sir.’

In the meantime they reached their stop and got off the tram. From there it was a five-minute walk to her house. Gurdweill accompanied her and climbed the stairs to the third storey with her to her front door. As he was about to say goodbye, the door opened and an elderly woman with a rather heavy body and sparse grey hair sticking to her scalp appeared.

‘Mother!’ cried the young woman, indicating Gurdweill. ‘This gentleman brought me home. I felt a little unwell on Karlsplatz, a giddy spell, and the gentleman kindly took care of me and accompanied me home — wasn’t that good of him?’

Both women now pleaded with him to come inside and rest a while and have a cup of coffee, until in the end he agreed.

They ushered him into a living room furnished in bourgeois style, and seated him next to a round table. The old woman left the room to brew the coffee.