Still, he turns in at every entryway and looks up at the windows in the back buildings. Tutti… Tutti…

Darkness is falling fast, and he has to have found somewhere by nightfall, otherwise the police will take him in, and when they see the state of him, they’ll make mincemeat of him till he’s confessed everything. And if he confesses the bit about the Persickes (and in his fear he’s bound to), then the Persickes will simply beat him to death.

He runs around aimlessly, on and on…

Finally, he can’t go any farther. He comes to a bench and hunkers down there, unable to walk on. He goes through his pockets looking for something to smoke—a cigarette would settle him.

He doesn’t find any cigarettes, but he does find something he certainly wasn’t expecting, namely, money. Forty-six marks. Frau Gesch could have told him hours ago that he had money in his pockets, to make the timid little man a bit more confident of finding somewhere for the night. But of course Frau Gesch didn’t want to admit to having gone through his pockets while he was asleep. She is a respectable woman, and as such—after a little inner struggle—she put the money back in his pocket. If it had been her Gustav, well, she would have confiscated it right away, but she draws the line at robbing a man off the street! Of course, she did take three out of the forty-nine marks she found, but that wasn’t theft, that was just payment for the food she gave Kluge. She would have given him the food without the money, but feeding a man for free when he’s got money in his pockets? She’s not so prodigal as that either.

At any rate, the possession of forty-six marks cheers up the fearful Enno Kluge to no end, now he knows he can always rent a room for the night. His memory starts to function better, too. He still can’t remember where Tutti used to live, but he suddenly recalls the small cafe where they met and where she was often to be found. Perhaps they will have an address for her there.

He gets up and trots off again. He sees where he actually is, and when a tram goes by, heading his way, he actually dares get up on the back platform of the first car. It’s so dark and crowded there that no one will pay much attention to his battered face. Then he walks into the café. He’s not there to eat or drink. He walks right up to the bar and asks the girl there if she knows Tutti, and if Tutti still comes here.

In a shrill loud voice that can be heard all over the bar, the girl asks him what Tutti he means. There was a fair few Tuttis in Berlin!

The shy little man answers awkwardly, “Oh, the Tutti that always used to come here. A dark-haired lady, a bit on the heavy side…”

Oh, that Tutti! No, and they didn’t want to see any more of that Tutti, thank you very much. If she dared to show her face here again! In fact, they didn’t care if they never heard from her again!

And with that the indignant girl turns away from Enno, who mumbles a few words of apology and scurries out of the cafe. He is still standing on the pavement outside, not knowing what to do, when another man comes out of the café, an older man, down and out, as it seems to Enno. He goes up to Enno, pulls himself together, tips his hat to him and asks if he wasn’t the gentleman who asked a moment ago after a certain Tutti.

“I might be,” replies Enno Kluge cautiously. “What’s it to you?”

“Oh, just this. I might be able to tell you where she lives. I could even walk you to her flat, but you’d have to do me a little favor!”

“What favor?” asks Enno, even more cautiously. “I don’t know of any favors I could do for you. I don’t even know you.”

“Oh, let’s just walk a bit!” exclaims the old gentleman. “No, it’s not out of your way if we walk down here.