And before I knew, I was asleep once more and slept four or five hours. It had gone ten when I woke. My clothes were all creases. I felt utterly exhausted. And in my head was the memory of yesterday’s half-forgotten horror; but I had life, hope and happy thoughts. As I returned to my room I experienced nothing of that terror that this return had had for me the day before. On the stairs above the araucaria I met the “aunt,” my landlady. I saw her seldom but her kindly nature always delighted me. The meeting was not very propitious, for I was still unkempt and uncombed after my night out, and I had not shaved. I greeted her and would have passed on. As a rule, she always respected my desire to live alone and unobserved. Today, however, as it turned out, a veil between me and the outer world seemed to be torn aside, a barrier fallen. She laughed and stopped.
“You have been on a spree, Mr. Haller. You were not in bed last night. You must be pretty tired!”
“Yes,” I said, and was forced to laugh too. “There was something lively going on last night, and as I did not like to shock you, I slept at an hotel. My respect for the repose and dignity of your house is great. I sometimes feel like a ‘foreign body’ in it.”
“You are poking fun, Mr. Haller.”
“Only at myself.”
“You ought not to do that even. You ought not to feel like a ‘foreign body’ in my house. You should live as best pleases you and do as best you can. I have had before now many exceedingly respectable tenants, jewels of respectability, but not one has been quieter or disturbed us less than you. And now—would you like some tea?”
I did not refuse. Tea was brought me in her drawing-room with the old-fashioned pictures and furniture, and we had a little talk. In her friendly