Then ... one night, like a re-opened wound, a soulless recollection struck him. The recollection was all body. A female body.
The gloom of the night became populated. Figures approached, more and more. The darkness became gradually a huge cauldron, in which bare arms swarmed, soft outlines, white shoulders, vulgar female faces.
Next day, Christopher went towards the fishmarket. He recognised the house. He knocked. And when he came away again from the girl he had learned that for the future he would need money.
He thought of his grandfather, his father. He saw them working forever and ever and they never seemed to spend any money. What were they doing with it? They must have a lot. Strangers had told him so. Even the girl with the bestial eyes knew it, as well as the others, those with the painted faces who winked in such a way that only he saw it. How did they know him? What did they want? Why do they emerge from their dirty houses when he passes by? Why do they lie in wait for him at the street corners? Wait, offer themselves and follow him obstinately.... And at night when he wants to sleep their image comes. The room gets crowded. They sit on his bed. They press him to give them their pay. But whence is he to procure the money?
Suddenly he saw his grandfather before him, as he had seen him from the cellar entrance. The great shadow at early dawn. He shrank. He blushed for every one of his miserable thoughts. It was all dirt. He too was going to work, hard, honestly, like the old ones. He would be kind to everybody. Even to Anne he would be kind. And he would never again set foot in the house of the girl with the bestial eyes.
But when the hour struck, he again became restless. To restrain himself, he called to his mind the image of his grandfather going to work. The image faded, became powerless and the frightful, hideous force attracted him anew. On the stairs he realised that it was useless to struggle; the fishmarket called him irresistibly.
Downstairs, in the porch, he found himself unexpectedly face to face with Anne and his father. Anne had a bunch of fuchsias in her hand.
“Come with us to the cemetery, to Uncle Sebastian,” said the girl, getting into the carriage.
Only when he was in the street did Christopher realise that he had given no answer. He looked after them.
The carriage was disappearing in the direction of the Danube.