Once, on a Monday evening, when I called on the Margolises, I found Max out.
Dora seemed to be ill at ease in my company, and I did not stay long. It seemed natural to fear that Max, who gave so much attention to the relations between the sexes, should view visits of this kind with misgivings. His playful warnings that we should beware of falling in love with each other seemed to be always in the air, and on that evening when he was away and we found ourselves alone I seemed to hear their echo more distinctly than ever.
It had a disquieting effect on me, that echo, and I decided never to call unless Max was sure to be at home. I enjoyed their hospitality too much to hazard it rashly. Moreover, Max and Dora lived in peace and I was the last man in the world to wish to disturb it
To my surprise, however, he did not seem to be jealous of me in the least.
Quite the contrary. He encouraged my familiarities with her, so much so that I soon drifted into the habit of addressing her as Dora
The better I knew her the greater was the respect with which she inspired me. I thought her an unusual woman, and I looked up to her
It became a most natural thing that I should propose myself as a boarder.
Thousands of families like the Margolises kept boarders to lighten the burden of rent-day
The project had been trailing in my mind for some time and, I must confess, the fact that Max stayed out till the small hours four or five nights a week had something to do with it
"You would be alone with her," Satan often whispered. Still, there was nothing definitely reprehensible in this reflection. It was the prospect of often being decorously alone with a woman who inspired me with respect and interested me more and more keenly that tempted me. Vaguely, however, I had a feeling that I was on the road to falling in love with her