‘Did it really take so long?’ Heidelberger, too, laughed. ‘I only went to buy cigarettes. But then I got such a thirst that I had to have a tankard of beer. Gustl!’ He raised his voice in the direction of the door. ‘Get a move on! Is that coffee going to take all day?’

‘I’m coming, I’m coming!’ Gustl cried from the kitchen.

‘A nice bit of jam, Gustl, eh?’ Heidelberger turned to his guest again with an ambiguous smile. He slapped Gurdweill on the shoulder. ‘How do you like her, brother?’

‘Not … not bad, I must say,’ replied Gurdweill in some confusion. Gustl’s face floated before his eyes for a moment, very close to his, a flushed face with glazed eyes and wild hair, the face of a cavewoman.

‘Ha-ha-ha!’ Heidelberger laughed complacently.

Gustl brought the coffee. She put the tray down on the table and went to open the window. Then she poured the coffee. From time to time she smiled affectionately at Gurdweill, who was sitting opposite her.

‘And how is your old lady?’ enquired Heidelberger.

‘Well. That is … very well, of course.’

‘And we’re still with the bookseller, are we?’

‘Yes, I’m still there.’

‘You forgot to put in sugar, Herr Gurdweill. Here,’ said Gustl, and she offered him the glass bowl.

‘Funny thing, books,’ Heidelberger philosophised between sips of coffee. ‘It always amazes me where people get the patience to write so many books or read them — aren’t I right? When you think how many millions and millions of books there are in the world, in all those languages and countries, it can drive you round the bend! I’m not talking about science books, mind. That’s something else again. People need science to know what’s what. But what about the others? All those story books! I’ll be blowed if I understand what anyone needs them for. When I myself, for example, see a book like that a mile away, I begin to yawn. You can believe me, Herr Doktor, I’m not exaggerating in the least!’