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‘I didn’t go out,’ she volunteered. ‘I had a headache.’
The Chinaman, who sat next to her, turned round.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I hope it’s better now.’
Fraulein Cacilie was evidently uneasy, for she spoke
again to Philip.
‘Did you meet many people on the way?’
Philip could not help reddening when he told a down-
right lie.
‘No. I don’t think I saw a living soul.’
He fancied that a look of relief passed across her eyes.
Soon, however, there could be no doubt that there was
something between the pair, and other people in the Frau
Professor’s house saw them lurking in dark places. The el-
derly ladies who sat at the head of the table began to discuss
what was now a scandal. The Frau Professor was angry and
harassed. She had done her best to see nothing. The win-
ter was at hand, and it was not as easy a matter then as in
the summer to keep her house full. Herr Sung was a good
customer: he had two rooms on the ground floor, and he
drank a bottle of Moselle at each meal. The Frau Professor
charged him three marks a bottle and made a good profit.
None of her other guests drank wine, and some of them did
not even drink beer. Neither did she wish to lose Fraulein
Cacilie, whose parents were in business in South America
and paid well for the Frau Professor’s motherly care; and
she knew that if she wrote to the girl’s uncle, who lived in
Berlin, he would immediately take her away. The Frau Pro-
fessor contented herself with giving them both severe looks
at table and, though she dared not be rude to the Chinaman,

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