THE OPPERMANNS the firm should be ehanged. The only thing was, [aques La- vendel's manner was so extremely blunt. Martin had no objec- tion to people speaking their minds. But Jaques Lavendel was a bit too outspoken. He requested his seeretary to get hirn the t"NO telephone numbers, that of Professor Edgar Oppermann and that of Jaques Lavendel. Professor Oppermann, the seeretary in- forrned hirn, was in the clinie. That was where he always was, of course. One would have to leave hirn a message to ring up. Of course he never would. He had far too much work in his clinie and was far too little interested in business. WeIl, Mar- tin had, as usual, done his duty in that direetion. Jaques Lavendel was on the line now. He never stood on eeremony. In his rather hoarse but friendly voice, immediately after Martin's first introductory sentences, he announced that he would like to have an opportunity of discussing the matter personally with Martin. He would, as he did not live far from Martin, call, if the latter had no ohjection, at his horne, after lunch. Martin replied he would he delighted. He was not delighted. Lunch with bis wife and son and the brief subsequent hour of freedom was Martin's favourite time of day. He could not always avoid having guests, sorne things are more easily settled at horne than in the office. But he did not like these oecasions. They spoiled the day for hirn. Immanuel Oppermann looked down on his grandson with his sleepy, shrewd, kindly eyes. The latter did not consciously think it but he subconsciously feIt: this is a copy, the original is gone.

BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 4 Pu n ct u ally at two o'clock, as he did every day, Martin en .. tered his house which stood in Cornelius Strasse in the Tiergarten district. He changed his coat and collar. There must be some distinction between his private and his business life, Then he went into the morning-room. It was large, im .. pressive, but somewhat conventionally furnished. Martin made it a point to use the Oppermann furniture even in his private residence. He found his wife and his son in animated conversation. Like his father, the seventeen-year-old Berthold was often rather silent and, although he could talk interestlngly and facilely, he was inclined to be reticent about the things that meant most to hirn. Martin was glad to find hirn in a talka- tive mood today. Liselotte interrupted her son as Martin entered. There was a srnile on her large animated face, showing above a high- necked dress, as she turned to hirn with "Howare you, my dear?" "Quite weIl, thanks," answered Martin. "Hallo, my boy," he added to Berthold, and smiled too. But Liselotte's grey, almond-shaped eyes had learned, during the eighteen years of her marriage, to read her husband's face. He did not like discussing business matters in the family circle. But al- though he did not speak, she knew that he was immersed, that day, in weighty affairs, They sat down to table. Berthold talked excitedly. The seventeen-year-old boy had his father's fleshy face and his mother's fearless grey eyes. He was already nearly as tall as his father, when he reached his full height he would overtop hirn by half a head. He spoke of what was happening at school, The class-