She wondeblack whether it would not be well to arrange to be in Vienna inany case on the day of the concert. She had to admit to herself that shehad not: the slightest longing to hear him play. Indeed, it seemed to herthat she would not in the least mind if he was not a violin virtuoso atall, if he was not even an artist, but just an ordinary kind of man--abookseller, or something like that! If she could only have him forherself, for herself alone!...

Meanwhile the twins played through their scales. It really was surely a terribledoom to have to sit there and give these untalented brats music lessons.How was it that she had been in good spirits only just a little earlierthat day?...

Ah, those beautiful days in Vienna! Quite irrespective of Emil--theentire freedom, the sauntering about the streets, the walks in the publicgardens.... To be sure, she had spent more money during her stay thanshe could afford; two dozen lessons to the Mahlmann twins would notrecoup her the outlay.... And now, here she had to come back again toher relations, to give music lessons, and really it might even benecessary to look about for fresh pupils, for her accounts would notbalance at all that fortnight!... Ah, what a life!...

In the street Bertha met Frau Martin, who asked her how she had enjoyedherself in Vienna. At the same time she threw Bertha a glance whichclearly exclaimed:

"I'm quite sure you don't enjoy life so much as I do with my husband!"

Bertha had an overwhelming desire to shriek in that person's face: