“I’ve just got to know her. She’s a charming girl, isn’t she?” Tarr could not quite make out Kreisler’s reception of these innocent remarks. “Is she?” Kreisler looked at him almost with astonishment. There is a point in life beyond which we must hold people responsible for accidents and their unconsciousness. Innocence then loses its meaning. Beyond this point Tarr had transgressed. Whether Tarr knew anything or not, the essential reality was that Tarr was beginning to get at him with Anastasya, just having been for a week a problematic and officious figure suddenly appearing between him and his prey of the Rue Martine. The habit of civilized restraint had kept Kreisler baffled and passive for a week. Annoyance at Bertha’s access of self-will had been converted into angry interest in his new self-elected boon companion. He had been preparing lately, though, to borrow money from him. Anastasya brought on the scene was another kettle of fish. What did this Tarr’s proceedings say? They said: “Bertha Lunken will have nothing more to do with you. You mustn’t annoy her any more. In the meantime, I am getting on very well with Anastasya Vasek!” * * * * * A question that presented itself to Kreisler was whether Tarr had heard the whole story of his assault on his late fiancée? The possibility of his knowing this increased his contempt for Tarr. Kreisler was disarmed for the moment by the remembrance of Anastasya. By the person he had regarded as peculiarly accessible becoming paradoxically out of his reach, the most distant and inaccessible—such as Anastasya—seemed to be drawn a little nearer. “Is Fräulein Vasek working in a studio?” he asked. “She’s at Serrano’s, I think,” Tarr told him. “So you go to Fräulein Lipmann’s?” “Sometimes.” Kreisler reflected a little. “I should like to see her again.” Tarr began to scent another mysterious muddle. Would he never be free of Herr Kreisler? Perhaps he was going to be followed and rivalled in this too? With deliberate meditation Kreisler appeared to be coming round to Tarr’s opinion. For his part too, Fräulein Vasek was a nice young lady. “Yes, she is nice!” His manner began to suggest that Tarr had put her forward as a substitute for Bertha! For the rest of the evening Kreisler insisted upon talking about Anastasya. How was she dressed? Had she mentioned him? etc. Tarr felt inclined to say, “But you don’t understand! She is for _me_. _Bertha_ is your young lady now!” Only in reflecting on this possible remark, he was confronted with the obvious reply, “But _is_ Bertha my young lady?” CHAPTER VII