His boss read further in the manuscript. “This needs to be re-transcribed,” he said after a while, during which the train had started moving. “Here, instead of ‘the new Reich’s mission vis-à-vis Europe,’ it should say ‘concerning Europe.’ All such foreign expressions should be deleted. And instead of the word ‘culture’ you should, wait a minute … I had found a better expression—what was it?”

“Nobility of mind?” the other hurried to interject.

“Nonsense. Think for a moment!”

“National advancement?”

“No!”

“Community spirit?”

“I didn’t say that! I had come up with a new expression. Make an effort!”

Silbermann stood up and left the compartment, making sure he took his briefcase with him.

I recognize the gaunt one, he thought, believing he had seen pictures of him, but he couldn’t remember the man’s name. He now regretted having followed his impulse to step out. I should have stayed and listened, he thought, wondering what new word the gentleman had come up with for “culture.” He went back inside the compartment.

But either they had found the lost word, or the supposed author had given up the search. Perhaps he’d solved the dilemma by simply leaving out the concept of culture altogether. Whatever the case, both men were now silent.

After about ten minutes the conductor came back, opened the door, and said, with the same deference, “Everything is all fixed up and ready!” Both men stood up, collected their belongings, and left the compartment, having amiably taken their leave of Silbermann. They’d probably just been waiting for their beds to be made.

Silbermann was very contented to be alone. He drew the curtain, spread a newspaper on the seat cushion where he wanted to place his feet, and stretched out. The whole first class is full of Jews, he thought as he fell asleep. If only it goes well … He didn’t sleep very deeply, and frequently woke with a start, frightened and bewildered. Then he would glance around the compartment, where he’d left the light on, before falling back asleep.

The train stopped and soon started up again. The door was shoved aside, and a man peered into the compartment. His attire was very run-of-the-mill, as Silbermann, who had woken up when the train resumed its movement, immediately noticed. He also sensed there was something distraught about the new arrival, and he had the impression that the man was not accustomed to traveling first class. The newcomer politely removed his hat and took the window seat opposite Silbermann.

“Excuse me,” he said, almost meekly. “I’m afraid I may have woken you. Please go on sleeping. I’m going to make myself comfortable as well.”

He took off his jacket, hung it carefully on a hook, and once again took off his hat, which he had put back on after greeting Silbermann, and placed it on the luggage rack.

Silbermann yawned. “I’m already feeling a little refreshed,” he said. He pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket. “Do you smoke?”