‘Perhaps it’s my fault, I’ve rather got out of the habit of looking at you at all.’ And so saying, it was a habit of his, he tapped on the table to indicate the passing of time. ‘The principal thing is that I have no confidence left in you, Oscar. If I yelled at you – I yelled at you when you came in, didn’t I? – then it wasn’t in any hope that it might improve you, I only did it thinking of your poor Mama, who, while she may not yet feel any pain over you, is already being weakened by her efforts to ward off such a pain (she thinks this is somehow in your interests). But in the end these are all things that you know very well, and I would have saved myself the trouble of mentioning them to you again, had you not provoked me with your promises.’

In the midst of these latest words the maid entered the room to see to the stove. No sooner had she left again than Oscar exclaimed: ‘But Papa! I would never have looked to you for such forbearance. If I’d had just a small idea, let’s say something towards my dissertation, which has been languishing in my bookcase these past ten years and is desperately in need of fresh ideas, then it’s just about possible, if hardly likely, that I would have come running home from my walk as happened today, and said, Father, I’ve had an idea. And if you had thereupon, with your respected voice, repeated your reproaches of a moment ago, then my idea would have been simply blown away and I should have had no option but to march off with or without a word of apology. Whereas now! Everything you say in objection to me helps my ideas – they don’t stop coming, they multiply and grow in my head. I will go now, because I need to be alone to put them in some order.’ He gulped for breath in the warm room. ‘Of course it could be some villainy you’ve got in your head,’ said his father with big, round eyes, ‘then I believe it would indeed get you in its grip. If it’s any kind of decent thought, though, it’ll disappear overnight. I know you.’ Oscar twisted his head, as though someone had him by the throat. ‘That’s enough. You’re picking away at me for no reason. The mere possibility that you might be able to predict the outcome accurately shouldn’t tempt you to disturb me in my good thoughts. Perhaps my past record gives you the right to do something like that, but it’s still wrong of you to make use of it.’

‘That only goes to show how great your uncertainty must be, if you are compelled to talk to me like that.’ ‘Nothing compels me,’ said Oscar, and his head gave a twitch. He went right up to the table, so that it was no longer possible to tell whose it was. ‘What I said, I said with respect and even with love for you, as you will see in due course, because my regard for you and Mama plays a leading role in my idea.’ ‘In that case I’d probably better thank you now,’ said his father, ‘seeing that it’s most unlikely that your mother and I will still be among the living when the proper time for thanks comes round.’ ‘Please, Father, let the future rest, as it deserves. If you wake it ahead of time, the only result is a sleepy-headed present. You shouldn’t need your son to remind you of that. Also, I wasn’t about to try and persuade you of anything, I was just announcing my idea. And that at least, as even you will have to admit, I’ve succeeded in doing.’

‘Now, Oscar, one thing still perplexes me: how is it that you’ve not come to me more often with such things? It accords so much with your nature. No, no, I’m serious.’

‘Well, if only you’d given me a good beating instead of listening to me. I came running here, God knows, to give you a pleasant surprise. But as long as my plan isn’t wholly thought through, I can’t tell you what it is. So why punish me for my good intentions and demand explanations of me that will only impede the execution of my plan?’

‘That’s enough now. I’m not interested anyway. But I had better tell you, because I can see you retreating to the door, obviously in some tearing rush to get somewhere: by your little device you have managed to allay the worst of my rage, with the result that I merely feel sadder than I did before, so I would like to beg you – if you like, I’ll even fold my hands like this – at least not to breathe a word about your ideas to your mother. Be satisfied with me.’

‘This is not my father who’s speaking to me in this way,’ cried Oscar, his hand already on the doorknob. ‘Either something’s happened to you since midday or you’re a stranger, someone I’ve never met before, in my father’s stead.