So there I sat on that old chair and again said sort and sift, sift and sort, several times, until I had said it so often that I burst out laughing, suddenly I was laughing out loud, very loud. Afterward it was quiet as never before.
Hoeller had turned out his light and I stood up and looked down and saw that it was dark in Hoeller’s workshop. Now I didn’t know why Hoeller had turned out the light just then, had he turned out the light because I had burst out into a laugh, or had he turned out the light without hearing me at all, simply because he had finished working on that huge black bird, actually Hoeller must have stopped working on the bird and left the workshop, unless he was still inside the workshop and had, for whatever reason, turned out the light, to stay in the workshop in the dark? I moved quite close to the window and listened, but I heard nothing, except suddenly the roaring of the Aurach again, but nothing else, as if all at once everything were asleep, as it seemed to me, on what basis I made this assumption I don’t know, but all at once it seemed to me that the whole house was asleep, but why had Hoeller turned out the light at the very moment I burst out laughing, just after my laugh the light in Hoeller’s workshop had been extinguished. But what would Hoeller be doing in the dark of the workshop, where he can’t see anything, or is it possible that the light from my window, from the attic window, falling on the Aurach, is enough light for the workshop as well, could Hoeller have thought that if he turned out his light he’d have enough light coming from the attic window, I thought as I stood at the window, and then I thought but why should Hoeller suddenly stop working now, at half-past twelve in the morning when he seemed to have been all set for work all through the night, it wasn’t at all an uncommon thing for him to do to stay at work in his workshop all night long, while his wife sits up in her bedroom all night long sewing or mending or knitting, with only the Hoeller children able to sleep, it was possible, I thought, that Hoeller was still there in his workshop, with his ears pricked up, watching me because, so I thought, once he had turned out the light in his workshop and could no longer be seen by me from the attic window, it was easy for Hoeller to watch me, that’s the kind of man he is, I thought, to watch me up here at the attic window where I am looking down at his workshop, while he’s hidden in the dark, watching me from where he sits, protected by the darkness at his workshop window, possibly observing the state I’m in and possibly drawing conclusions based on his observations with regard to my constitution, my mental and physical constitution, so that in the morning he may treat me quite differently, because of these nighttime observations, than he would have, had he not observed me, after all it was I who attracted his attention to myself by bursting into a loud laugh after all that brooding over sorting and sifting the Roithamer legacy, I thought, he can hardly do otherwise than keep me under observation now, turning out the light gave him the opportunity to observe me. He didn’t even have to get up and come to the window, he can keep an eye on me from his workbench where he might even yet be working at sewing up his bird, from where Hoeller is now sitting, as I suppose, watching me, he can observe me very well when I show myself at the attic window, I thought, if I show myself at the window I can be seen by Hoeller, in that case why am I showing myself?