They all strolled slowly through the garden while it gradually became dusk, and chatted about the places they had recently seen. When they came back to the table under the plane-tree it was laid for dinner and the fairy-lights were burning in the glass holders. The waiter was just bringing the Asti in a bucket. Anna sat down on the seat, which had the trunk of the plane-tree for its back. Therese sat opposite her and George and Demeter on either side.
The meal was served and the wine poured out. George inquired after their Viennese acquaintances. Demeter told them that Willy Eissler had brought back from his trip some brilliant caricatures both of hunters and of beasts. Old Ehrenberg had bought the pictures.
"Do you know about the Oskar affair yet?" said George.
"What affair?"
"Oh, the affair with his father in front of St. Michael's Church." He remembered that he had thought of telling Demeter the story some time back before the ladies had appeared, but that he had thought it right to suppress it. It was the wine, no doubt, which now loosened his tongue against his will. He told them briefly what Heinrich had written him.
"But this is an extremely sad business," said Demeter, very much moved, and all the others immediately felt more serious.
"Why is it a sad business?" asked Therese. "I think it is enough to make one laugh till one cried."
"My dear Therese, you don't consider the consequences it may have for the young man."
"Good gracious, I know well enough. It will make him impossible in a certain set, but that won't do more than make him realise what a silly ass he has been up to the present."
"Well," said George, "if Oskar really is one of those people who can be made to realise anything.... But I really don't think so."