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deflation, and stabilization, but rather hated the proletariat alone, because, without really wanting to come to terms with it, she sensed that the future belonged to this class. She grew envious, but denied it. When she saw that a worker was able to afford a glass ofbeer, she was deeply hurt and her most sacred feelings were offended. Merely reading a democratic editorial made her furious. She was almost unbearable on May Day.
    Only once did she have a gentleman caller, for eight years. He was an art teacher at the vocational school in the Eighth District. He had always been a little bit nervous, always making odd remarks like “Well, now, so who’s the Titian? A wop!” Finally one day he literally went crazy, as was right and proper. It began with an excessive need for cleanliness. He would shave his entire body, meticulously snip the hairs from his nostrils, and change his clothes ten times a day, despite only having one suit. Later, he would always carry a dust cloth around with him, dusting everything from the candelabra, pavement, and tramway to the pedestal of the statue of Maria Theresa. In the end he was even bent on dusting the air. And then the show was over.

CHAPTER 4
    BUT LET US NOW PUT THESE SOCIOHISTORICAL sketches aside and return to the present, namely to Schellingstrasse.
    A certain Count Blanquez had stopped by Frau Perzl’s place scarcely ten minutes before Kobler returned home. He told her that he wanted to wait in Kobler’s room for his friend Kobler.
    This Count Blanquez was an elegant figure and a botched character. His ancestors were Huguenots, but he himself was born in the Bavarian Forest. He was partly raised by Piarists and partly by a homosexual staff surgeon in one of thosehopeless prisoner-of-war camps in Siberia. He did not get along well with his family because he had fourteen siblings. And yet he seemed for the most part to be in good spirits—a big boy, a loyal companion, but sadly without scruples. He loved music, only he never went to the opera because every opera reminded him of the Huguenots, and when he thought about the Huguenots he got depressed.
    Perzl showed him in without much courtesy. That is, she did not find him especially pleasant because she suspected him of only being interested in young girls. While observing him through the keyhole, she thought mistrustfully, “Where on earth does he get his elegant ties?” She watched him as he sat down on the sofa, picked his nose and then, after inspecting the extracted specimen, wiped it off sluggishly on the edge of the table. Then he stared at Kobler’s bed, smiling cynically. Hereupon he began rummaging through Kobler’s drawers and skimming through his correspondences. Annoyed not to find any cigarettes anywhere, he removed a handkerchief from Kobler’s armoire and proceeded to squeeze out his blackheads in front of the mirror. He was, as has already been noted, sadly without scruples.
    He was just combing his hair with Kobler’s comb when the latter took Perzl by surprise at the keyhole.
    “The gentleman count is here,” she whispered. “But if I were you, I’d clamp the lid on that. Just think about it, didn’t he come up here just yesterday with some whore, plop himself down on your bed with her, use your towel, and then just like that, head out the door again with her! That’s really crossing the line. And that’s just what I’d say to the gentleman count!”
    “It’s not as simple as you think it is,” said Kobler. “The count’s a bit touchy—he could easily take it the wrong way.And I’ve got to be on good terms with him for our many business collaborations. In fact, I did notice something about the towel while I was drying my face today, but, well, one hand washes the other.”
    Perzl returned to the kitchen miffed and muttered something unfavorable about the cavaliers of today. As the count caught sight of Kobler, he was gurgling with the latter’s mouthwash, and did not allow himself to be the