“You wanted to pay fifteen thousand marks and now you’re hesitating at fourteen?”

“I’m just thinking there are other deals I could make with the money, maybe better ones. You just always have to see for yourself where you are in life. Well?” He sighed contentedly.

Silbermann jumped up.

“Of course I can’t influence your decision,” he said impatiently. “But since I don’t have any more time I’d appreciate it if you could make up your mind right here and now. Otherwise please consider my offer as no longer valid. I don’t even know if you’re seriously interested in the purchase or not.”

“There’s no need to sound like that,” Findler replied testily. “I’ve always known that you Jews aren’t cut out for doing business, at least not with people who know what they’re doing, well…”

Silbermann saw how much Findler was enjoying this extortion—the man was even proud of it. Silbermann had a sharp response on his tongue, something to the effect that he, Silbermann, couldn’t compete with blackmailers and had no desire to, and that he was used to conducting business in a decent manner. Except there are times when the most simple-minded swindler has the edge over the most intelligent and decent person.

But he didn’t manage to spit out the uncivil thoughts that were bubbling up inside him or even to answer Findler more mildly—which would have been far more reasonable—because suddenly there was a wild ringing at the door. Without paying attention to his visitor’s bewildered face or excusing himself even with a single word, Silbermann hurried out of the room into the hall, where he met his wife.

“You have to leave,” she whispered, upset.

“No, no, I can’t leave you here alone!”

Not knowing what he should do, he headed toward the door. She stopped him.

“Nothing can happen to me if you’re not here,” she assured him, blocking his way. “Spend tonight in a hotel. Now be quick and go.”

He thought for a moment. The bell rang again and fists began pounding at the door.

“Open up, Jew, open up…” several overlapping voices bellowed. Silbermann’s jaw dropped. He fixed his eyes on the door.

“I’m getting my revolver,” he said, almost inaudibly. “I’ll shoot down the first one who breaks into my home! No one has the right to barge in like that.”

He started to pass his wife and head to the bedroom.

“We’ll see about that,” he said. “We’ll see about that…”

Fists again pounded the door and the bell was ringing shrilly.

“Well?” asked Findler, who had stepped into the hall when he heard the noise. “What’s happening here? That’s just great. If the brothers catch me here, in their excitement they might take me for a Jew and smash my teeth in.”

He ran his hand tenderly over his mouth.

“Don’t you have a back door?” he then asked Silbermann, who was standing there watching him, as though he were expecting help and advice. “And to hell with it, you can foist your damned building on somebody else,” he added.