BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 79 ing subway trains. When Herr Wolfsohn had spoken to Krause the superintendent about the stain, the latter had in- formed hirn that all necessary repairs would be carried out in the spring. Besides, that sort of damp stain did not. mean any- thing. Adecent Hat needs a spot just as aspinster needs a child. That might be. But, in any case, the stain was a blot on the appearance of the room. Herr Wolfsohn would have to have another talk with Krause the superintendent tomorrow. His meditations were interrupted by the arrival of his brother-in-law, Moritz. Frau Wolfsohn brought in a second bottle of beer, and the two men had a conversation on world affairs and economics. Moritz Ehrenreich, the type-setter, was small and sturdy, had astern, animated face, full of wrinkles, with brown, keen eyes, and tangled hair. He stamped up and down the room, his legs wide apart, quarrelsome as usual, full of the most gloomy presentiments. He was not inclined to re- gard the assault on the [ew in the subway as an isolated case, Such occurrences were going to be the order of the day in Germany, he proclaimed, just as they were at one time in Tsarist Russia. Fire and sword would come to Grenadier Strasse, to Münz Strasse, and even the Kurfürstendamm would not escape. People were going to see something. Markus Wolfsohn had another bottle of beer brought in and listened with pleasure to the popping noise it made when it was opened. He regarded the squat, boxer's figure of his brother-in-Iaw with quiet irony. "Well, and what are we going to do about it, Moritz?" he asked. "Shall we all join the Mak- kabi Club and learn to box?" Moritz Ehrenreich did not approve of such silly jokes. He knew exactly what ought to be done. One had to have five hundred English pounds, in order to emigrate to Palestine. Because of the fall in value of the pound he had got much nearer to his goal during the last few months. He already had four hundred and forty pounds. "If you were wise," said he,

80 THE OPPERMANNS "you, Markus, and you, Miriam"-he called his sister Miriam just as obstinately as Herr Wolfsohn calIed her Marie-"if you were wise, you'd corne with me." "Must I learn Hebrew in my old age?" Herr Wolfsohn jested good-humouredly. "You'd never manage it," jeered Moritz Ehrenreich. "But you ought to make the children learn Hebrew. As a matter of fact, there is a girl by the name of Oppermann in our class who is get- ting on very weIl with it," It gave Herr Wolfsohn samething to think about, an Opper- mann learning Hebrew. He listened, too, with interest, to the statistics with which Moritz Ehrenreich supplied him. Pales- tine was one of the very few countries which had escaped the crisis. Exports were increasing. They were also going ahead with sports in that part of the world. Herr Ehrenreich ex- pected to be able, in not such a very lang time, to watch the Olympic Games there, He spoke with violent emphasis, pacing excitedly up and down. His words tumbled over one another. His enthusiasm was infectious. All the same, Herr Wolfsohn did not have the faintest in- tention of leaving Berlin. He was fond of the city, he was fond of Oppermann's Furniture Stores, he was fond of the block of flats in Friedrich Karl Strasse, of his family, of his dwelling. My home is my castle. He gazed in comfortable assurance at the picture in the fine frame, where the gods and goddesses were playing tag. If it were not for the stain above it, and Herr Zarnke next door, he would be completely happy. nesting his elbows upon it, Professor Edgar Oppermann . l\... sat at his desk in the director's room at the throat hospital. He was staring sternly at the piles of printed and