Anna had nothing very bright to communicate about her last evening. They had had visitors. "First," Anna told him, "my mother's two cousins, then an office friend of my father's to play tarok. Even Josef was domesticated for once and lay on the sofa from three to five. Then his latest pal, Herr Jalaudek, who paid me quite a lot of attention." "Really, really." "He _was_ fascinating. I'll just tell you: a violet cravat with yellow spots which puts yours quite into the shade. He paid me the honour too of suggesting that I should help him in a so-called charity-performance at the 'Wild Man,' for the benefit of the Wahringer Church Building Society." "Of course you accepted?" "I excused myself on account of my lack of voice and want of religious feeling." "So far as the voice is concerned...." She interrupted him. "No, George," she said lightly, "I have given up that hope at last." He looked at her and tried to read her glance, but it remained clear and free. The organ from the church sounded softly and dully. "Right," said George, "I have brought you the ticket for to-morrow's 'Carmen.'" "Thanks very much," she answered, and took the card. "Are you going too, dear?" "Yes, I have a box in the third tier, and I have asked Bermann to come. I am taking the music with me, as I did the other day at Lohengrin, and I shall practise conducting again. At the back, of course. You can have no idea what you learn that way. I should like to make a suggestion," he added hesitatingly. "Won't you come and have supper somewhere with me and Bermann after the theatre?" She was silent. He continued: "I should really like it if you got to know him better. With all his faults he is an interesting fellow and...." "I am not a Rattenmamsell," she interrupted sharply, while her face immediately assumed its stiff conventional expression. George compressed the corners of his mouth. "That doesn't apply to me, my dear child. There are many points of difference between Guido and me. But as you like." He walked up and down the room. She remained sitting on the ottoman. "So you are going to Ehrenbergs' this evening?" she asked. "You know I am. I have already refused twice recently, and I couldn't very well do so this time." "You needn't make any excuses, George, I am invited too." "Where to?" "I am going to Ehrenbergs' too." "Really?" he exclaimed involuntarily. "Why are you so surprised?" she asked sharply; "it is clear that they don't yet know that I am not fit to be associated with any more." "My dear Anna, what is the matter with you to-day? Why are you so touchy? Supposing they did know ... do you think that would prevent people from inviting you? Quite the contrary. I am convinced that you would really go up in Frau Ehrenberg's respect."