"Not at all, not at all, of course not," said Herr Rosner. "Very kind
of you, Baron, to do a little music with my daughter. Very nice, very
nice."
Anna had stepped into the next room. George followed her and left the
door open. The white tulle curtains were pinned together in front
of the open window and fluttered slightly. George sat down at the
cottage-piano and struck a few chords. Meanwhile, Anna knelt down in
front of an old black partly gilded whatnot, and got out the music.
George modulated the first chords of his song. Anna joined in and sang
to George's song the Goethean words,
Deinem Blick mich zu bequemen,
Deinem Munde, deiner Brust,
Deine Stimme zu vernehmen,
War mir erst' und letzte Lust.
She stood behind him and looked over his shoulder at the music. At
times she bent a little forward, and he then felt the breath of her
lips upon his temples. Her voice was much more beautiful than he
remembered its having ever been before.
They were speaking rather too loudly in the next room. Without stopping
singing Anna shut the door. It had been Josef who had been unable to
control his voice any longer.
"I'll just pop in to the café for a jiffy," he said.
There was no answer. Herr Rosner drummed gently on the table and his
wife nodded with apparent indifference.
"Goodbye then." Josef turned round again at the door and said fairly
resolutely: "Oh, mamma, if you've got a minute to spare by any
chance----"
"I'm listening," said Frau Rosner. "It's not a secret, I suppose."
"No. It's only that I've got a running account with you already."
"Is it necessary to go to the café?" asked old Rosner simply, without
looking up.
"It's not a question of the café. The fact is ... you can take it from
me that I'd prefer myself not to have to borrow from you. But what is a
man to do?"
"A man should work," said old Rosner gently, painfully, and his eyes
reddened. His wife threw a sad and reproachful look at her son.
"Well," said Josef, unbuttoning his office coat, and then buttoning it
up again--"that really is ... for every single gulden-note----"
"Pst," said Frau Rosner with a glance towards the door, which was ajar,
and through which, now that Anna had finished her song, came the
muffled sound of George's piano-playing.
Josef answered his mother's glance with a deprecatory wave of his hand.
"Papa says I ought to work. As though I hadn't already proved that I
can work." He saw two pairs of questioning eyes turned towards him.
"Yes of course I proved it, and if it had only depended on me I'd have
managed to get along all right. But I haven't got the temperament to
put up with things, I'm not the kind to let myself be bullied by any
chief if I happen to come in a quarter of an hour late--or anything
like that."
"We know all about that," interrupted Herr Rosner wearily. "But after
all, as we're already on the subject, you really must start looking
round for something."
"Look round ... good ..." answered Josef. "But no one will persuade
me to go into any business run by a Jew. It would make me the
laughing-stock of all my acquaintances ... of my whole set in fact."
"Your set ..." said Frau Rosner. "What is your set? Café cronies?"
"Well if you don't mind, now that we are on the subject," said
Josef--"it's connected with that gulden-note, too. I've got an
appointment at the café now with young Jalaudek. I'd have preferred to
have told you when the thing had gone quite through ... but I see now
that I'd better show my hand straight away. Well, Jalaudek is the son
of Councillor Jalaudek the celebrated paper-merchant. And old Jalaudek
is well-known as a very influential personage in the party ... very
intimate with the publisher of the _Christliche Volksbote_: his name
is Zelltinkel. And they're looking out on the _Volksbote_ for young
men with good manners--Christians of course, for the advertisement
business. And so I've got an appointment to-day with Jalaudek at
the café, because he promised me his governor would recommend me to
Zelltinkel. That would be ripping ... it would get me out of my mess.
Then it wouldn't be long before I was earning a hundred or a hundred
and fifty gulders a month."
"O dear!" sighed old Rosner.
The bell rang outside.
Rosner looked up.
"That must be young Doctor Stauber," said Frau Rosner and cast an
anxious glance at the door, through which the sound of George's
piano-playing came in even softer tones than before.
"Well, mamma, what's the matter?" said Josef.
Frau Rosner took out her purse and with a sigh gave her son a silver
gulden.
"Much obliged," said Josef and turned to go.
"Josef," cried Herr Rosner, "it's really rather rude--at the very
minute when we have a visitor----"
"Oh thank you, but I mustn't have all the treats."
There was a knock, Doctor Berthold Stauber came in.
"I apologise profusely, Herr Doctor," said Josef, "I'm just going out."
"Not at all," replied Doctor Stauber coldly, and Josef vanished.
Frau Rosner invited the young doctor to sit down. He took a seat on the
ottoman and turned towards the quarter from which the piano-playing
could be heard.
"Baron Wergenthin, the composer. Anna has just been singing," explained
Frau Rosner, somewhat embarrassed. And she started to call her daughter
in.
Doctor Berthold gripped her arm lightly but firmly, and said amiably:
"No, please don't disturb Fräulein Anna, please don't. I'm not in the
least hurry. Besides, this is a farewell visit." The latter words
seemed jerked out of his throat; but Berthold nevertheless smiled
courteously, leant back comfortably in his corner and stroked his short
beard with his right hand.
Frau Rosner looked at him as if she were positively shocked.
"A farewell visit?" Herr Rosner asked. "Has the party allowed you to
take a holiday, Herr Stauber? Parliament has only been assembled a
short time, as one sees in the papers."
"I have resigned my seat," said Berthold.
"What?" exclaimed Herr Rosner.
"Yes, resigned," repeated Berthold, and smiled nervously.
The piano-playing had suddenly stopped, the door which had been ajar
was now opened. George and Anna appeared.
"Oh, Doctor Berthold," said Anna, and held out her hand to the doctor,
who had immediately got up. "Have you been here long? Perhaps you heard
me singing?"
"No, Fräulein, I'm sorry I was too late for that. I only caught a few
notes on the piano."
"Baron Wergenthin," said Anna, as though she were introducing. "But of
course you know each other?"
"Oh yes," answered George, and held out his hand to Berthold.
"The Doctor has come to pay us a farewell visit," said Frau Rosner.
"What?" exclaimed Anna in astonishment.
"I'm going on a journey, you see," said Berthold, and looked Anna in
the face with a serious, impenetrable expression. "I'm giving up my
political career ... or rather," he added jestingly, "I'm interrupting
it for a while."
George leant on the window with his arms crossed over his breast and
looked sideways at Anna. She had sat down and was looking quietly at
Berthold, who was standing up with his hand resting on the back of the
sofa, as though he were going to make a speech.
"And where are you going?" asked Anna.
"Paris. I'm going to work in the Pasteur Institute. I'm going back to
my old love, bacteriology. It's a cleaner life than politics."
It had grown darker. The faces became vague, only Berthold's forehead,
which was directly opposite the window, was still bathed in light.
His brows were twitching. He really has his peculiar kind of beauty,
thought George, who was leaning motionless in the window-niche and felt
himself bathed in a pleasant sense of peace.
The housemaid brought in the burning lamp and hung it over the table.
"But the papers," said Herr Rosner, "have no announcement at all so far
of your resigning your seat, Doctor Stauber."
"That would be premature," answered Berthold. "My colleagues and the
party know my intention all right, but the thing isn't official yet."
"The news is bound to create a great sensation in the circles affected
by it," said Herr Rosner--"particularly after the lively debate the
other day in which you showed such spirit and determination. I suppose
you've read about it, Baron?" He turned to George.
"I must confess," answered George, "that I don't follow the
parliamentary reports as regularly as I really ought to."
"Ought to," repeated Berthold meditatively. "There's no question
of 'ought' about it really, although the session has not been
uninteresting during the last few days--at any rate as a proof of how
low a level a public body can sink to."
"The debate was very heated," said Herr Rosner.
"Heated?... Well, yes, what we call heated here in Austria. People were
inwardly indifferent and outwardly offensive."
"What was it all about then?" inquired George.
"It was the debate arising out of the questions on the Golowski
case.... Therese Golowski."
"Therese Golowski ..." repeated George. "I seem to know the name."
"Of course you know it," said Anna. "You know Therese herself. She was
just leaving the house when you called the last time."
"Oh yes," said George, "one of your friends."
"I wouldn't go so far as to call her a friend; that seems to imply a
certain mental sympathy that doesn't quite exist."
"You certainly don't mean to repudiate Therese," said Doctor Berthold
smiling, but dryly.
"Oh no," answered Anna quickly. "I really never thought of doing that.
I even admire her; as a matter of fact I admire all people who are able
to risk so much for something that doesn't really concern them at all.
And when a young girl does that, a pretty young girl like Therese"--she
was addressing herself to George who was listening attentively--"I am
all the more impressed. You know of course that Therese is one of the
leaders of the Social Democratic Party?"
"And do you know what I took her for?" said George. "For a budding
actress."
"You're quite a judge of character, Herr Baron," said Berthold.
"She really did mean to go on the stage once," corroborated Frau Rosner
coldly.
"But just consider, Frau Rosner," said Berthold. "What young girl
is there with any imagination, especially if she lives in cramped
surroundings into the bargain, who has not at some time or other in her
life at any rate coquetted with such an idea."
"Your forgiving her is good," said Anna, smiling.
It struck Berthold too late that this remark of his had probably
touched a still sensitive spot in Anna's mind. But he continued with
all the greater deliberation. "I assure you, Fräulein Anna, it would be
a great pity if Therese were to go on the stage, for there's no getting
away from the fact that she can still do her party a tremendous lot of
good if she isn't torn away from her career."
"Do you regard that as possible?" asked Anna.
"Certainly," replied Berthold. "Therese is between two dangers, she
will either talk her head off one fine day...."
"Or?" inquired George, who had grown inquisitive.
"Or she'll marry a Baron," finished Berthold curtly.
"I don't quite understand," said George deprecatingly.
"I only said 'Baron' for a joke, of course. Substitute Prince for Baron
and I make my meaning clearer."
"I see ... I can now get some idea of what you mean, Doctor.... But how
did Parliament come to bother about her?"
"Well, it's like this, last year--at the time of the great
coal-strike--Therese Golowski made a speech in some Bohemian hole,
which contained an expression which was alleged to be offensive to
a member of the Imperial family. She was prosecuted and acquitted.
One might perhaps draw the conclusion from this that there was no
particular substance in the prosecution. Anyway the State Prosecutor
gave notice of appeal, there was an order for a new trial, and Therese
was sentenced to two months' imprisonment, which she is now serving,
and as if that wasn't enough the Judge who had discharged her in the
Court of first instance was transferred ... to somewhere on the Russian
frontier, from where no one ever comes back. Well, we put a question
over this business, which in my view was extremely tame. The Minister
answered somewhat disingenuously amid the cheers of the so-called
Constitutional parties. I ventured to reply in possibly somewhat more
drastic terms than members are accustomed to use, and as the benches
on the other side had no facts with which to answer me they tried to
overwhelm me by shouts and abuse. And of course you can imagine what
the strongest argument was, which a certain type of Conservatives used
against my points."
"Well?" queried George.
"Hold your jaw, Jew," answered Berthold with tightly compressed lips.
"Oh," said George with embarrassment, and shook his head.
"Be quiet, Jew! Hold your jaw! Jew! Jew! Shut up!" continued Berthold,
who seemed somewhat to revel in the recollection.
Anna looked straight in front of her. George thought that this was
quite enough. There was a short, painful silence.
"So that was why?" inquired Anna slowly.
"What do you mean?" asked Berthold.
"That's why you're resigning your seat."