‘But I need money! You have to do something. Go and ask Frau Fischer — maybe she’ll give you something.’

‘I can’t,’ said Gurdweill, fumbling with his pipe. ‘We still owe her last month’s rent. Apart from which, I’ve already borrowed about ten schillings from her.’

‘But what am I going to do?’ Thea sank despairingly into a chair. ‘I have to have some money. And there’s no money at home either. I saw Poldy yesterday. They haven’t got a penny.’

After a moment’s thought she said, ‘Look here, Rudolfus, perhaps you should go and ask the old lady anyway. Can’t you see how much I need the money?’

‘I can’t, my dear, I really can’t,’ Gurdweill begged. ‘She won’t give us anything, I know she won’t. This afternoon I’ll go to town and try to borrow some money.’

‘I’m telling you that I need it now. Now, this minute!’ screamed Thea furiously, stressing every word. ‘Can’t you understand, you idiot!’

Gurdweill was silent. In his embarrassment he took his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and began to stuff his already full pipe with its half-cracked bowl. ‘Money, money,’ the word hammered in his head. ‘Where to get money?’ He stood up and went over to his wife, who was sitting at the table with her head in her hands. He stood behind her and tried to placate her. He stroked her back and said gently, ‘I’d do it with all my heart, my dear, if only I could. You know I would …’