BOOK ONE: YESTERDAY 93 not go OD. He tried to concentrate. In his mind's eye he could see the narrow pages of his Latin edition of Tacitus, the large Roman type of his fine German edition of T acitus. He glanced again at that corner on the Ieft, There stood Vogelsang, still motionless, attentive. Berthold opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again, looked down at the tips of his toes. It must be at least eight seconds since he had stopped speaking. Even ten. What was it he had said last? Oh, yes, that the achievement of Arminius had really had no external consequences. There was 00 question but that Luther's translation of the Bible and Gut- enberg's discoveries had been more important to Germany and to her position in the w~rld than the battle in the Teutoburg Forest. The achievement of Arminius, we must admit, re- mained, practicaIly, without significance. Did he want to express hirnself quite like that? No, he wanted to give the idea much more discreet, less blunt, less harsh expression. WeIl, anyhow. Get on, Berthold. Get it over. Only, DO more pauses, the first had already lasted an eternity. But now he had the threads ~gain. Now nothing more could happen to hirn. He would get into his stride after the "refuta- tion." A second stop? No, Herr Doctor, impossible. He smiled triumphantly across the room towards the far cor- nec. "But all the same," he began again. Hallo, what was this? Why was Vogelsang's face suddenly changing in such an ex- traordinary manner? Why was the scar which cut through his cheek getting so red? Why was he opening his eyes so wide? None of that will do any good, Herr Doctor. I've got hold of the threads again now. You can't faze me now. "But all the same," he began, in a brisk and vigorous tone, "admitting all that--" At that point he was interrupted. A sharp, squeaking voice issued from the corner: "No, not admitted. I do not admit that. No one here admits that. I am not going to put up with it. I refuse to listen to such a thing any langer. Who do you think