I have neither mother, wife nor child. No one expects me. No one longs for me.

I, on the other hand, do have longings. For Stasia for instance. I would gladly live with her for a year, or two, or five. I should love to travel to Paris with her if I won the triple chance in the nick of time, before the government abolishes the lottery. I would not need to sell my room to Alexander nor to beg from my uncle Phöbus. The draw is next Friday and I shall have to hold out for a week. I cannot keep Alexander waiting as long as that. By morning I have to decide.

I must take leave of Stasia.

She was dressed as I came in, and on her way to the show.

She had a yellow rose in her hand and let me smell it.

‘I’ve had a lot of roses – from Alexander Bohlaug.’

Perhaps she expects me to say, ‘Send the roses back.’

Perhaps, too, I might have said it, if I had not come to take leave of her for ever.

So I just said, ‘Alexander Bohlaug is taking over my room and I am leaving.’

Stasia stopped on the second step down. We had just started down the stairs. Perhaps she would have asked me to stay, but I did not look at her, nor did I linger but went obstinately down the stairs as if I were in a hurry.

‘You really are going?’ asked Stasia. ‘Where?’

‘I’m not certain.’

‘It’s a pity you don’t want to stay.’

‘Can’t stay …’

Then she said nothing more and we walked in silence to the Variétés.

‘Will you be coming to a farewell tea, after the show?’ she asked.

If Stasia had not asked me but simply invited me I would anyway have said ‘No!’

‘Then have a good journey.’

It was a cool parting, but there had been nothing between us! I had not even sent flowers.

The flower seller in the hotel had chrysanthemums. I bought some and sent them by Ignatz to Stasia’s room.

‘Is the gentleman leaving?’ asked Ignatz.

‘Yes.’

‘Because in fact another free room could be found for Herr Alexander Bohlaug if the gentleman is leaving on his account.’

‘No, I’m leaving anyway! Bring me the bill tomorrow.’

‘The flowers are for Stasia?’ asked Ignatz, before I stepped out of the lift.

‘For Fräulein Stasia.’

I slept the whole night through without a dream. Tomorrow or the day after I would be on my way. The long drawn out whistle of a train came to me. People were travelling in the world. Adieu, Hotel Savoy.

XIII

Alexander was a man of the world. He knew how to wrap up a deal. He was a bonehead but nevertheless the son of Phöbus Bohlaug.

He arrived punctually in another elegant suit. He talked for an hour about everything except our business. He let me wait. Alexander had time.

‘In Paris I lodge with Madame Birnbaum, a German. The Germans are the best housekeepers in Paris. Madame Birnbaum has two daughters, the elder is over fourteen, but even if she were thirteen – one does not think so precisely in these matters. Well, one day a cousin of Madame Birnbaum’s turns up – and I had made an excursion with Jeanne – only she kept me waiting. In short I come back after two days – I have the keys on me — and I come at night, tread softly so as not to wake anyone, on the tips of my toes as they say, don’t turn on any lights, just take off my shoes and jacket, go over to my bed, reach out and touch – would you believe it? – the breasts of little Helene.

‘She was sleeping in my room, because of the cousin, or else Madame Birnbaum had deliberately planned it – in short, you can imagine what happened next.’

I can imagine.

Alexander starts on a new story.

This man has lived out countless stories in his lousy twenty-two years. One tale gives birth to another and I am no longer listening.

Suddenly Stasia comes into the tea lounge – she was looking for someone and we were the only people in the room. Alexander sprang up, ran over to her, kissed her hands and drew her over to our table.

‘We’re neighbours now!’ began Alexander.

‘Oh, I didn’t know that,’ says Stasia.

‘Yes, my dear cousin has been so good as to turn his room over to me.’

‘That’s not settled yet!’ I said all at once. Why, I didn’t myself know. ‘We haven’t said a word about it.’

‘Is it a question of money?’

‘No,’ I said firmly, ‘I’m not leaving at all. But you can still have a room, Alexander.