What important interviews does anyone have in the evening?
Morning's the time for that sort of thing.
And anyway one didn't hear of them only half an hour beforehand.
She simply did not want to, that was all.
I was disappointed in quite a childish fashion.
Only now" did I realise how much I had been looking forward to the evening.
I was vexed that I was so annoyed, and did not want her to see it.
"Very good," said I, "then there's nothing doing.
Au revoir."
She looked at me searchingly.
"There's not all that hurry.
I haven't to be there till nine.
We could go for a short walk.
I haven't been out the whole week."
"All right," said I reluctantly.
I suddenly felt empty and tired.
We walked along the street.
The night had cleared and the stars stood bright between the roofs.
We came to a grassy space where were a few shrubs in the shadow.
Patricia Hollmann stopped short. "Lilac," said she. "I smell lilac!
But that's quite impossible, it's much too early of course."
"I don't smell anything," I replied.
"Yes!" She leaned over the railing.
"It's a Daphne indica, lady," came a thick voice out of the darkness.
A municipal gardener with a cap with a metal badge was there leaning against a tree.
Swaying a bit, he came toward us.
The neck of a bottle glinted from his pocket.
"We put it in to-day," he explained with a hiccough. "It's over there."
"Thank you," said Patricia Hollmann and turned tome. "Can't you smell anything yet?"
"Yes, I smell something now all right," I replied ungraciously. "Good old brandy."
"Go up to the top of the form!" The chap in the shadows belched loudly.
I could smell perfectly well the heavy, sweet perfume that floated out of the darkness; but I would not have admitted it for anything in the world.
The girl laughed and took a deep breath.
"How lovely it is, when you have been so long shut up in a room.
It's a shame I have to go.
This Binding—always in a hurry and at the last minute—I think he might really have postponed it till to-morrow."
"Binding?" I asked. "You've an appointment with Binding?"
She nodded.
"With Binding and someone else.
It's the someone else that counts.
Real serious business.
Can you imagine it?"
"No," I replied. "I can't imagine it."
She laughed and went on talking.
But I was not listening any longer.
Binding—it entered me like a stroke of lightning.
I did not reflect that after all she had known him much longer than me—I saw only his big Buick, larger than life and gleaming; his expensive suit and his fat pocket wallet appeared before my eyes.
My poor, gallant, tricked-out old room!
What had I been thinking of!
Hasse's lamp, Zalewski's armchairs!