“Not yet, ma reine,” I said, smiling too, “but for the time being I’ve handed the business over to my wife, from whom, by the way, I’m getting a divorce. What do you think of that, my pretty one? Perhaps in eight weeks I’ll be on the market. Quite well-preserved, aren’t I?”
She looked at me for a moment, and then the smile vanished from her face, and she said rather coolly and in a businesslike tone, “One schaps, was it? Or a whole bottle again?”
“Quite right, my golden one,” I cried, “a whole bottle again! And another bottle of champagne for yourself!”
“Not in the daytime,” she answered shortly, and went away. A moment later I had plenty to drink, of this coarse watery-coloured stuff that I already liked better than cognac. But except for that, I didn’t get much for my money that afternoon. Elinor was constantly busy, in and out of the barroom, and we could only exchange a few words from time to time.
Upset by this, I drank more than usual, and after about an hour and a half, Elinor had to bring me another bottle, and I realised myself that I was very drunk. Then a few young fellows came in, among them that bricklayer with whom Elinor had been talking so intimately; and just to attract the girl to my table (which only succeeded for a few minutes) I let them all sit with me and ordered for each one whatever he wanted. In a short time my table offered a wild spectacle. Beer and schnaps glasses, wine and champagne bottles stood on it in wild confusion, and around it were grouped a horde of wildly talking, shouting, laughing, gesticulating figures, and I was the wildest and drunkest of the lot. I felt myself absolutely liberated, I really was a stone hurtling into the abyss—I absolutely ceased to think.
In all our uproar we did not hear the car pull up, and when two gentlemen came in we hardly noticed them. I was just shouting some protestation or other to the man opposite me—he wasn’t even listening—when suddenly I stopped as if a hand had been clapped over my mouth, for one of these gentlemen, who had sat down at the next table, greeted me with a friendly “Good evening,” and this gentleman was Dr Mansfeld. I didn’t know the other gentleman. Even my drinking companions fell silent; and though they saw that nothing further was happening, that the gentlemen at the next table were quietly drinking their beer, deep in conversation, even then the old jollity did not return. One after the other, they faded away, and at last I was left alone in this wilderness of glasses and bottles, and I looked in vain for Elinor; she did not come to restore order to the chaos. Probably she was outside the door flirting with the young bricklayer, who was doubtless a lover of hers. After the wild abandon of a few moments ago, a deep depression fell over me, I gnawed my lips and shot suspicious glances at the neighbouring table, where they were taking no notice of me at all. My suspicions were aroused, I wondered whether Dr Mansfeld had turned up here by mere coincidence in the course of going the round of his practice, or whether Magda had asked him to come. I racked my brains to remember whether in my drunkenness I might have given Magda the name of this little resort of mine, or whether I might have let slip some indication so that it was not difficult to trace—but I could not remember. The second gentleman seemed familiar to me but I couldn’t quite place him.…
I could have done with another drink, and the brandy bottle was close enough at hand, but in front of the two guests at the next table I did not dare to fill my glass. I told myself that in view of the state of this table and my wild behaviour of a short time ago, nothing could make matters worse, and yet I still didn’t dare.
At last Elinor came back into the bar-room. I called her to me and quietly asked her for the bill. While she totted up a row of figures on her pad, standing bent over me and hiding me rather from the view of the next table, I swallowed down two or three quick mouthfuls. Then I carefully corked the bottle and thrust it into my brief-case. Elinor gave a sharp glance at what I was doing and, indicating the next table, she whispered with raised eyebrows: “Friends?” I merely shrugged my shoulders. The bill was so steep that it took nearly all my money down to the last mark, and left only a quite inadequate tip for Elinor. She looked at me again with raised eyebrows, and whispered: “Cleaned out?”
I answered just as quietly, “I know where to get more. Till the next time, ma reine.”
She nodded lightly.
Now I had to get up and walk, under the watchful eyes of the gentlemen at the next table. I took my brief-case and made sure in advance on which hook my hat was hanging so that I shouldn’t have to search round for it as I went out. Then I stood up. I felt I could manage. I would have to move slowly and very carefully, and then it would be all right. After all, I only needed to get out of the village to one first sheltering bush, or better still, a happy thought!—I only needed to lock myself up in the toilet here, and I could sleep as long as I wanted to. I had fresh provisions with me.
Already I had politely said “Good evening” to the next table as I got up, and now I was at the door only a step from salvation, when a voice behind me said: “Oh, just a moment, Herr Sommer!”
It gave me such a start, I nearly fell.
“I beg your pardon?” I cried in an unnecessarily loud voice. The doctor had taken hold of my arm and supported me.
“Did I startle you? I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, nothing,” I said, embarrassed. “It must have been this wretched carpet I stumbled over.…” And I looked crossly at the carpet which lay quite smooth.
“I only wanted to ask you, Herr Sommer,” Dr Mansfeld went on, “if I might perhaps offer you a lift home in my car.”
He paused, and then said smilingly, “We’ve been celebrating a bit, haven’t we? Never mind, we all like to do that occasionally. But getting home might be a bit hard going, mightn’t it? So you come with us.”
He took me amiably but firmly under the arm. The other gentleman had paid and now he came over to us. “May I introduce you?” said the doctor, “Herr Sommer—Dr Stiebing, our district medical officer.”
With that he took me out of the inn and over to the car. I followed him like a sheep to the slaughter—the district medical officer!
So it was not chance, after all. It was a cleverly laid trap! That damned Magda! She wanted to get the better of me. She acted fast, I must admit. But I was clever too, I would have to play a part, be cunning, counter guile with guile.
“Well,” I suddenly laughed merrily, “two doctors, they should be able to manage a poor drunkard, eh? Have mercy on me gentlemen!” With that, I sat in the back of the car, while the other two gentlemen, also laughing, took their seats in front. We were just about to start when Elinor came running out of the house. She was carrying an ugly parcel wrapped up in newspaper, and she handed it into the open car. She said in a loud voice: “Here’s your shoes that you forgot the other night!” She gave a sneering laugh as she looked at me with her big white face and colourless eyes. Her mouth was very red.
After an embarrassed silence, the doctor asked, “Shall we go now?”
I answered, “Yes,” and the car moved off.
12
I am quite unable to describe how I felt during that journey. Abysmal desperation alternated with a paralysing apathy which terrified me even in that state of mind. It was as if I lay imprisoned in some heavy nightmare, close to waking all the time and yet unable to waken, and becoming involved in ever deeper and more fearful horrors. On a seat beside me lay the parcel containing my shoes. The newspaper had burst open and I saw them, smeared and dusty. I looked at one of the soles: dreadful, simply dreadful what pretty Elinor had done, worthy of a queen of schnaps.