His condition was in ludicrous contrast with the magnificence and dash of his attire, for he was dressed, regardless of expense, as a Hungarian magnate of the first water, and he rejected with sombre scorn all attempts made by friends to commiserate him. His nearer acquaintances knew for a certainty that he would thus remain seated on top of an empty wine cask until the very close of the ball. For whenever the black devils of drink cast their spell over him in this fashion it required from four to six hours to emerge into a saner and somewhat soberer frame of mind. Just now his sobs shook his whole bony body. The divers orderlies who passed him held their sides with laughter, but he heeded them not. His wife found the situation very annoying, and she therefore resolved to get one of her sudden attacks of headache. She retired, with signs of disgust on her pretty face, to another corner, and when Borgert joined her soon afterward, she requested him in mellifluous tones to escort her home. As they reached the door of the house in which she with her husband occupied the upper part, while Borgert had his smaller lodgings on the ground floor, she sighed with some satisfaction and said in a low voice: “The air has done me good; I feel much better now.” “Then may I take you back to the Casino?” was Borgert’s answer, and the tone of his voice was full of disappointment. “No, no, we will go up and have a cup of coffee; that will do us good, and I really do not feel like returning to that crowd of drunken people; it is simply disgusting!” “Just as it pleases you, my most gracious lady!” With that he inserted the key into the lock, opened the door, and both of them silently scaled the rather steep stairs, dark as Erebus. When they had reached her cosy parlor, Borgert brought the lamp and lit it. He knew exactly the spot where he would find it in the dark, for his acquaintance with every nook of the apartments had come in the course of time with their mutual intimacy. Then he took up a newspaper and sat down in the sofa corner. Frau Leimann had disappeared in the adjoining room; but it took her only a very few minutes to return, bearing in her hands the Vienna coffee machine, and presenting, now that she had resumed a comfortable and coquettish kimono in lieu of her masquerade costume, a most seductive picture. “So,” said she, letting the heavy window curtains down, “now at last we are again where we can have a comfortable, undisturbed chat together.” * * * * * The first rosy dawn showed on the horizon as a heavy, lurching step was heard on the stone stairs outside. Frau Leimann blew out the lamp, and then resumed her seat on the sofa, leaning her head against the soft cushions. Meanwhile Leimann had noisily opened the door leading into the corridor, and now stepped into the room where his wife was waiting.