s he had forcibly to collect his senses and was surprised that
he was still there and alive. The whole shop moved about him like a
wild and treacherous dream-world. Nothing was real in it but his
boundless love and his unendurable hate. His bad conscience suggested
ever new combinations and was eagerly active to realize the most
improbable notions and fancies. If he had still believed in hell, he
would have imagined in those moments of self-absorption that he was in
the midst of it. So the time had come when the seed of despair which he
had so sadly and seriously tended in his soul, was quickened.

On a Saturday evening, when he paid his board, Hoeflinger told him that
they had decided not to keep boarders any longer. The announcement was
made in a kindly and friendly manner: but Victor listened with secret
malice. He grew pale and gave Hoeflinger a hostile stare. Hoeflinger
added that he regretted, that he had liked him, but that everybody had
to arrange his life according to his own needs. These were more good
words than Victor had ever heard from him, and his suspicion that the
recent sabotage and a secret decision of the committee which the long
one had carried through, were back of it, rapidly became a conviction.
In his mind he sneered: "We'll see who leaves the house first." He
nodded convulsively and left the room with stiff knees. He thought by
himself: "He wants me to feel his power" and "He denounced me so as to
get me away from his wife. He is a wretched scoundrel one must get rid
of!" These three conclusions henceforth determined his thoughts and the
direction of his speculations. Before his eyes the claw of the idol
continually appeared, rising from the ground and grabbing its prey.
Between the wife and the idol stood nothing but the doomed victim.
Everything else had vanished like smaller beasts at the tiger's coming.
The world had become strangely simplified.

Victor sat seriously brooding on the first step of the stairs to the
gallery and stared before him with eyes, sunken and circled with
dark rings. A workingman passed and remarked laughing: "Get your
hair cut, Garibaldi." He looked after him wondering what he meant.
Hoeflinger stepped near. The siren shrieked. The electrical bells
yelled through the shops. Softly the gearing began to move. The
steel beasts came to life again. The first thrill went through the
halls. Hundreds of shining metal limbs were lifted high, slender,
irresistible, triumphant