Searched by these flashes her room looked
tumbled and grimed. She pulled down the window-blinds--but they gave a
persistent, whitish glare which was just as bad. The only thing of life
in the room was a jar of hyacinths given her by the landlady's daughter:
it stood on the table exuding a sickly perfume from its plump petals;
there were even rich buds unfolding, and the leaves shone like oil.

Viola went over to the washstand, poured some water into the enamel
basin, and sponged her face and neck. She dipped her face into the
water, opened her eyes, and shook her head from side to side--it was
exhilarating. She did it three times. "I suppose I could drown myself if
I stayed under long enough," she thought. "I wonder how long it takes to
become unconscious?... Often read of women drowning in a bucket. I wonder
if any air enters by the ears--if the basin would have to be as deep as
a bucket?" She experimented--gripped the washstand with both hands and
slowly sank her head into the water, when again there was a knock on the
door. Not the landlady this time--it must be Casimir. With her face and
hair dripping, with her petticoat bodice unbuttoned, she ran and opened
it.

A strange man stood against the lintel--seeing her, he opened his eyes
very wide and smiled delightfully. "Excuse me--does Fraulein Schafer
live here?"

"No; never heard of her." His smile was so infectious, she wanted to
smile too--and the water had made her feel so fresh and rosy.

The strange man appeared overwhelmed with astonishment. "She doesn't?"
he cried. "She is out, you mean!"

"No, she's not living here," answered Viola.

"But--pardon--one moment." He moved from the door lintel, standing
squarely in front of her. He unbuttoned his greatcoat and drew a slip of
paper from the breast pocket, smoothing it in his gloved fingers before
handing it to her.

"Yes, that's the address, right enough, but there must be a mistake
in the number. So many lodging-houses in this street, you know, and so
big."

Drops of water fell from her hair on to the paper. She burst out
laughing. "Oh, HOW dreadful I must look--one moment!" She ran back to
the washstand and caught up a towel. The door was still open... After
all, there was nothing more to be said. Why on earth had she asked him
to wait a moment? She folded the towel round her shoulders, and returned
to the door, suddenly grave. "I'm sorry; I know no such name" in a sharp
voice.

Said the strange man