“Just keep your dirty trap shut,” he recommended. “You won’t be so lucky a second time.”

Silbermann looked at him fiercely.

“Tell your master he should kindly attend to my report. I’ll be back.”

And with that he gave one more sullen glance at the guard and left.

“What bad luck,” he muttered to himself. “Now I’ll have to kill myself with my own hands, while they could have easily done it for me.”

He wandered aimlessly about the city for an hour. Suddenly he found himself in front of the building where his lawyer lived. He went inside, took the elevator up to the third floor, and rang the doorbell.

Löwenstein himself opened. “It’s you,” he observed. “I assumed it was the police…”

“I thought you’d been arrested,” Silbermann replied grumpily.

“So why did you come here?” Löwenstein asked, inviting him in. “As it happens they just let me go today.”

“And what are you doing now?” asked Silbermann, and started to take off his coat.

“I’m leaving the country. My train goes in one hour.”

“Do you have a visa?”

“No, but I have the address of a man who can take me across the Dutch border. You should come with me, Silbermann.”

“I’ve already done that! Besides, all I have left are two hundred marks. They robbed me in the train and stole thirty thousand marks. When I passed by here, I thought: maybe Löwenstein knows how I could come by some money.”

“But if you were robbed … God forbid. How can anybody let thirty thousand marks get stolen! A person has to be careful. On the other hand, everyone’s going to lose his money sooner or later. At least you don’t have to die on that account. Be glad you’re in one piece. So, are you coming?”

“I’m sick of travel,” Silbermann said slowly.

“Do you think I enjoy it? You have to decide right now though, please. I don’t have any time. I have a hundred things to take care of, and my train leaves in an hour. Well?”

“I don’t have enough money.”

“I’ll loan you some. After all, you’re still good for two hundred marks.”

“Very nice of you. Good-bye.”

Löwenstein took hold of him. “So?” he asked. “What is it?”

“I wish you the best of luck,” Silbermann replied. “But I’ve had it up to here with traveling. It bores me.”

The lawyer looked at him uncomprehendingly.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “It bores you! Did I hear that right? It’s a matter of life and death, my man. Don’t you realize that?”

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.