Silbermann stared back at him.

“I want my money back!” he said. “Thirty thousand marks! I demand … I … have to think it all through again … Don’t let me detain you.”

“Something’s no longer right with you,” said Löwenstein.

“Yes,” Silbermann said calmly. “I often have that feeling these days … the world has gone mad … that is to say I no longer know what to make of it … Which really means that I myself…”

“Oh come on.” Löwenstein interrupted him. “A sensible man like you. So are you coming? I’m afraid you have to decide right away.”

Silbermann shook his head, then held out his hand and said good-bye.

As he slowly went down the stairs, he wondered what he should do. I have no choice but to keep moving, he thought. But on my own … Löwenstein talks too much for my taste. I’ll simply go to Hamburg. That was always a nice ride. I always felt best in the compartments on the train to Hamburg. Although I could go back to Dortmund. At least then I could get some sleep.

He stopped outside the entrance to the building.

Löwenstein will make it, he thought. He’s a capable soul … not easily intimidated. I really ought to join him … but what about my money? What will happen to that? What if they find it … and then I’ll be out of the country and won’t have a penny!

He boarded a streetcar.

I’ll go to the office, he thought. I have to check to see what mail has come in the meantime. I haven’t been paying any attention to my business … that’s practically criminal negligence.

He hopped off the streetcar.

What business? It no longer exists, he remembered.

He hailed a taxi and gave the driver Becker’s address.

Maybe he’ll give me some money, a few thousand marks, who knows?

After just one block he had the driver stop and he got out.

It’s pointless, he felt. Everything is pointless.

He jumped onto a passing streetcar.

“Where are you headed?” he asked the conductor.

“Adolf-Hitler-Platz.”

He paid for a ticket.

What am I supposed to do there? he asked himself.

He got off two stations later.

Where to? he thought anxiously. Where to? I’m insane, I should have gone with Löwenstein. But I’m so sick of traveling.

He went into a pub, sat down, and ordered a glass of beer.

I am insane, he concluded once more. Maybe that’s actually the best thing for me, the most reasonable. The times are enough to drive a person mad all on their own. However, these and similar musings led him to conclude that he was still of sound mind, and was therefore obliged to think rationally.