Lenz on the other hand was all fire and flame.
He was completely changed from what he had been just now.
His yellow head of hair shone like the hood of a hoopoe.
He let off a whole firework of wise cracks and in company with Binding ruled the table.
I just had to sit by and could do little to make myself noticed even—at most, pass a plate once or offer cigarettes.
And touch glasses with Binding.
I did that fairly often.
Lenz suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead:
"The rum!
Bob, go and fetch our birthday rum."
"Birthday?
Is it someone's birthday?" asked the girl.
"Yes, mine," said I. "I've been plagued with it all day."
"Plagued?
Then you won't be wanting my congratulations, I suppose?"
"Oh, yes," said I; "congratulations is another matter."
"Fine; then all the best."
For a moment I held her hand in mine and felt her warm, dry pressure.
Then I went out to get the rum.
The night stood big and silent about the little house.
The leather seats of our car were moist.
I stood and looked toward the horizon where the red glow of the city rose against the sky.
I would gladly have stayed out there; but already I could hear Lenz calling.
Binding could not carry the rum.
After the second glass one could see that.
As he went out into the garden he rocked.
I stood up and walked with Lenz into the bar.
He asked for a bottle of gin. "Wonderful girl, eh?" said he.
"Don't ask me, Gottfried," I replied. "Haven't paid that much attention."
He gazed at me a while with his iris-blue eyes and then shook his gleaming head.
"What do you live for then, baby, tell me?"
"I've been asking myself that a long time," I answered.
He laughed.
"You'd like me to tell you, I suppose.
Well I won't right off, just like that.
But I think I'll go and see if I can't dig out how the girl stands with Fatty, the auto catalogue."
He followed Binding out into the garden.
After a while they both came back to the bar.
The information must have been good, for Gottfried, who now apparently saw the road clear, from sheer pleasure joined up enthusiastically with Binding.
The two got a fresh bottle of gin and an hour later were patting each other on the back like old friends.
There was always something charming about Lenz, so that it was difficult to resist him when he was in good humour.
Indeed at such times he could hardly resist himself.
Now he simply overflowed Binding, and soon the two of them were out in the arbour singing soldiers' songs.
And in the meantime the girl had entirely forgotten the last of the romantics.
We three were now left alone in the inn parlour.
It was suddenly very quiet.
The cuckoo clock ticked.
The hostess cleared away and looked down on us maternally.
A brown retriever lay stretched, out in front of the stove.
Now and then he would bark in his sleep, softly, high and plaintive.