f the houses were hard
against a cloudless sky. He kept his eyes fixed on the ground; for the
crudeness of the light made them ache.

His feet bore him along the road they knew better than any other. And
until he had been in the BRUDERSTRASSE, he could not decide what was to
come next. He dragged along, with bowed head, and the distance seemed
unending. Even when he had turned the corner and was in the street
itself, he kept his head down, and only when he was opposite the house,
did he throw a quick glance upwards. His heart gave a terrifying leap,
then ceased to beat: when it began again, it was at a mad gallop, which
prevented him drawing breath. All three windows stood wide open; the
white window-curtains hung out over the sills, and flapped languidly in
the breeze.

He crossed the road with small steps, like a convalescent. He pushed
back the heavy house-door, and entered the vestibule, which was cold
and shadowy. Step by step, he climbed to the first landing. The door of
the flat was shut, but the little door in the wall stood ajar, and he
could see right into the room.

He leaned against the banisters, where the shadow was deepest. Inside
the room that had been his world, two charwomen rubbed and scoured,
talking as they worked in strident tones. The heavy furniture had been
pulled into the middle of the floor, and shrouded in white coverings;
chairs were laid on the bed, with their legs in the air. There was no
trace of anything that had belonged to Louise; all familiar objects had
vanished. It was a strange, unnatural scene: he felt as one might feel
who, by means of some mysterious agency, found it possible to be
present at his own burial, while he was still alive.

One of the women began to beat the sofa; under cover of the blows,
which reverberated through the house, he slunk away. But he did not get
far: when he was recalled to himself by a new noise in one of the upper
storeys, he found that he was standing on the bottom step of the
stairs, holding fast to the round gilt ball that surmounted the last
post of the banisters. He moved from there to the warmth of the
house-door, and, for some time before going out, stood sunning himself,
a forlorn figure, with eyes that blinked at the light. He felt very
cold, and weak to the point of faintness. This sensation reminded him
that he had had no solid food since noon the day before. His first
business was obviously to eat a meal. Fighting a growing dizziness,