dancing girls; the fried lobster which smelt of the sea; the chicken
stuffed with parsley which reminded him of the gardener, and the first
gerkins with their poisonous flavour of verdigris which made such a
jolly, crackling sound between his crunching teeth. The porter flowed
through his veins like hot streams of lava; they drank champagne after
the strawberries; a waitress brought the foaming drink which bubbled
in the glasses like a fountain. They poured out a glass for her. And
then they talked of all sorts of things.

Theodore sat there like a tree in which the sap is rising. He had
eaten a good supper and felt as if a whole volcano was seething in his
inside. New thoughts, new emotions, new ideas, new points of view
fluttered round his brow like butterflies. He went to the piano and
played, he himself knew not what. The ivory keys under his hands were
like a heap of bones from which his spirit drew life and melody.

He did not know how long he had been playing, but when he turned,
round he saw his brother entering the room. He looked like a god,
radiating life and strength. Behind him came Rieke with a bowl of
punch, and immediately after all the girls came upstairs. The
lieutenant drank to each one of them separately; Theodore found that
everything was as it should be and finally became so bold that he
kissed Rieke on the shoulder. But she looked annoyed and drew away
from him, and he felt ashamed.

When Theodore found himself alone in his room, he had a feeling as if
the whole world were turned upside down. He tore the text from the
wall, not because he no longer believed in Jesus, but because its
being pinned against the wall struck him as a species of bragging. He
was amazed to find that religion sat on him as loosely as a Sunday