"Yes, it certainly is very funny," she said.
The tone in which she spoke was not convincing, for another pause ensued.
Then the colonel rose, took her head between his hands, pressing it so hard she thought her ears would split, and said:
"You certainly appear in need of rest."
With this he turned on his heel and went out of the dining-room.
"Now pull yourself together, dear," Lilly heard her friend's voice urging her, "because after this he'll be on the qui vive."
Lilly was going to throw herself on Fräulein von Schwertfeger's bosom, hoping to be petted and consoled, but she held herself aloof, as if she feared being caught in too intimate converse with Lilly, and said in a tone of strained friendliness:
"Excuse me, Lilly dear. There is something I must attend to at once," and she too left the room.
"What now?" she thought.
She looked about her. The remains of their abruptly finished meal were still on the table. The dark oak furniture cast shining black shadows into the wintry half-light of the room. The old brass chandeliers gleamed dully. All was as it always was, and yet there was nothing there--only a cruel, all-devouring void, an abyss which lured her into its depths as if drawing her with hooks and pulleys.