“No,” said Silbermann, then reached into his pocket and handed her a three-mark coin. “Will you be so kind as to tell her she has a visitor?”

The girl let him in and showed him to the reading room. By the time Ursula Angelhof entered some ten minutes later, Silbermann had nearly fallen asleep in the comfortable armchair. She examined him calmly. It seemed she was neither pleased nor particularly surprised, just perhaps a little taken aback. Silbermann jumped up.

“Good evening,” he greeted, no longer knowing exactly why he had come.

She seemed not to know, either.

“I wanted to see you again,” he explained, using the familiar Du. “I didn’t meet you in the café because I came too late.”

“But how did you find out my address?” she asked, using the formal Sie.

“From your husband.” Silbermann stuck to the familiar form.

“Ah,” she said, and it seemed to Silbermann as if she smiled for a moment approvingly. But then she became serious. “You shouldn’t have done that”—here she switched to Du—“you know how things are between us.”

“But I wanted to see you again,” he said quietly.

“Why?” she asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. Which is why I didn’t keep our appointment.”

Silbermann couldn’t help smiling. Of course, she hadn’t kept their rendezvous.

“Maybe you’re right,” he then said.

She shook her head. “And?” she asked.

“It’s … I don’t know how to go on. I have no idea what to do. No idea! I’m done for. They stole my money in the train from Dresden to Berlin.”

Her eyes widened, appalled. “Your money?” she asked.

“Now I don’t know why I came … I wanted to see you … But … it doesn’t make any sense … it’s just that … I don’t know.”

He stood up, took her hand, looked at her closely, and finally kissed her hand.

“Good-bye,” he said.

“But I don’t understand,” she said. “There was something you wanted. What was it? Can I help you … I mean.”

“No, no, no,” he cut her off, almost testily, and shook his head. “Besides, there’s nothing you can do to help.” He sighed.

Slowly he walked to the door. Then all of a sudden he felt her hand on his shoulder. He turned to her and looked at her questioningly.

“Do you want to stay here?” she whispered.

He gazed at her with empty eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I think … perhaps it’s better … if I go.”

“As you wish,” she answered calmly. “But what are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to do anything anymore!” he answered. And then he left.

TEN