should happen to be able to fiddle)--at the end of a year, he declares,
I shall be playing all over Europe and earning enough to make both you
and me never have to think of money again. Which will be a very
blessed state to get to.

You can picture the frame of mind in which I walked down his stairs and
along the Potsdamerstrasse home. I felt I could defy everybody now.
Perhaps that remark will seem odd to you, but having given you such
glorious news and told you how happy I am, I'll not conceal from you
that I've been feeling a little forlorn at Frau Berg's. Lonely. Left
out. Darkly suspecting that they don't like me.

You see, Kloster hadn't been able to have me go to him till yesterday,
which was Saturday, and not then till the afternoon, so that I had had
all Friday and most of Saturday to be at a loose end in, except for
practising, and though I had got here prepared to find everybody very
charming and kind it was somehow gradually conveyed to me, though for
ages I thought it must be imagination, that Frau Berg and the other
boarders and the _Mittagsgaste_ dislike me. Well, I would have
accepted it with a depressed resignation as the natural result of being
unlikeable, and have tried by being pleasanter and pleasanter--wouldn't
it have been a dreadful sight to see me screwing myself up more and
more tightly to an awful pleasantness--to induce them to like me, but
the people in the streets don't seem to like me either. They're not
friendly. In fact they're rude. And the people in the streets can't
really personally dislike me, because they don't know me, so I can't
imagine why they're so horrid.

Of course one's ideal when one is in the streets is to be invisible,
not to be noticed at all. That's the best thing. And the next best is