BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 85 moment before, still the brilliant scientist, became insignificant as soon as he no langer spoke about his microbes, and turned into the grey, ugly dwarf he really was. Should Edgar tell hirn that he had to leave on his account? Out of the question. Old Lorenz was adecent fellow, but there was always a coefficient of uncertainty in official business, at least as high as that in the Oppermann treatment. What a sight the lad was, sitting there, a regular Schlemihl. Edgar hurriedly gripped his hand. His own hand was not large, but the other's tiny one disap- peared inside it, "You must come and dine with me one eve- ning soon, my dear Jacoby. I want to have a real talk with you. This confounded Berlin bustle," He smiled. His face grew quite young when he smiled. He sailed off again through the corridors. He must tell Gina he had invited little Jacoby to dinner and fix the exact time. Nurse Helene would have to remind him, If possihle, it had better be an evening when Ruth was free too. Why did he suddenly think about his daughter? Obviously in connexion with little Jacohy. But why? Perhaps it was the earnestness, one really had to say, the frenzy, with which both pursued their aims, He, Edgar, smiled at Ruth's Zionism. He ought to spend more time with her. Reason, reason, my daughter. Get thee not to a nunnery, Ophelia. It was a pity that the simplest things were the most difficult to understand. He was a Ger- man doctor, a German scientist. German science and Jewish science did not exist, the only thing that existed was Science. He knew it, Jacoby knew it, old Lorenz knew it. But appar- ently Ruth did not know it, and certain others who mattered were stilliess aware of it, He thought with some uneasiness of the conference he was going to, In the end, little Jacoby would have to be sent to Palestine, he thought, smiling.

86 THE OPPERMANNS M atter s had gone just as Nurse IIelene expected in the director's room. Privy Councillor Lorenz was punctual, her Professor was late. She had time to consult with the Privy Couneillor. The Oppermann treatment, famous throughout the world, had lately been the object of particularly vindictive attacks in the Berlin newspapers. Oppermann was accused of using pa- tients of the third class, the poor non-paying patients from the rnunicipal clinie, as subjects for his dangerous experiments. The ]ewish doctor, it was stated in the coarse jargon of certain Nationalist newspapers, did not shrink from shedding streams of Christian blood for the sake of self-advertisement. Nurse Helene was of the opinion that it was time something was done about this filthy slander. Her Professor should not let any impudent scoundrel insult him, She stood, stout and strong, at the desk. "I think it's really time 1 ealled his attention to it, Herr Privy Couneillor," she deelared in her quiet, energetic tones. "It's time he did something about it." Privy Couneillor Lorenz sat faeing her. He was a colossus in build, with a red face beneath extremely white, short hair, a small snub nose, and rat her bulging blue eyes under his thick, white eyebrows. "I should not care a hang, if I were he, my girl," he blurted out in his blunt Bavarian idiom. The words tumbled from his big mouth, with its many gold teeth, like bits of rock. "Pigsty," he grumbIed, and struck the newspaper with the underlined paragraphs with his red, thick-veined hand. "The whole of politics is nothing but a pigsty. U nless one cannot help doing otherwise, one should simply ignore them. That's what annoys the pigsty crowd most." "But he holds a government appointment, Herr Privy Councillor,"