An avenue formed itself between them, and we walked down the avenue while I kept thinking in the deathlike silence, "Strange that nobody bursts out laughing." So we reached the altar, which the old man had constructed with awful skill of a large packing box covered with red bunting. And quite an exhibition of flowers and candles on it, with a crucifix in the middle, as at a funeral. The pastor was standing in front of us. He put on his solemn ministerial air and stroked back the wide sleeves of his vestment like a sleight-of-hand man about to begin his tricks. First a hymn--five stanzas--then the sermon. I have not the slightest idea what the pastor said, for suddenly a perverse thought entered my brain and became a fixed idea not to be shaken off. She will say, "No!" And the nearer we drew to the decisive moment the more the anguish of that thought throttled me. Finally I had not the least doubt in the world that she would say "No." Gentlemen, she said "Yes." I heaved a sigh of relief, like a criminal who has just heard the verdict "Not guilty." And now the strangest thing of all. Scarcely had the word crossed her lips and the fear of humiliation been lifted from my soul than I began to wish, "Oh, if only she had said 'No'." After the Amen there were congratulations without end. I shook one hand after another with genuine fervour. "Thank you" here, "Thank you" there. I was grateful from the bottom of my heart to every fellow there because in anticipation of the excellent food and drink to follow he bestowed his polite congratulations upon me. Only one person was missing--Lothar. He stood in the back row looking quite sallow, as though he were hungry or felt bored. "There he is, Iolanthe," I said and caught hold of him. "Lothar Puetz--Puetz's only son--my own boy. Shake hands with him. Call him Lothar!" She still hesitated, so I placed her hand in his and thought to myself, "Thank God he is here. He will help us over many a difficult hour." Please don't smile, gentlemen. You think that in the course of my married life a love relation slowly developed between the two young people. Not a bit of it. Just a little patience. Something very different is going to come. Well, to proceed. We went to table. Everything according to form and in abundance. Flowers, silverware, baumkuchen. To begin with, a little glass of sherry to warm up your stomach. The sherry was good but the glass was small and I could not see any more sherry about. "Now you must be very gallant and tender to her," I said to myself and looked at her sidewise. Her elbow was grazing my arm and I could feel how she was trembling. "She's hungry," I thought, for I had not eaten a thing myself yet. Her eyes were fixed on the candelabra in front of her. Their silvery sheen in the course of the years had faded and wrinkled like the skin of an old woman. Her profile! God, how beautiful! And that was to belong to me. Nonsense!