gage, they said good-bye. "We have unfortunately been rather separated in politics, but, thank God, we can come to gether in human affairs. Have a good time in Paris."
"It is not a pleasure trip." Jadassohn turned round, with an expression as if he were about to trap a witness. When he saw how disturbed Diederich looked he came back. "In four weeks you will see it for yourself," he said with remark able solemnity. "Perhaps it would be better if you were now to prepare the public." Impressed, in spite of himself, Diederich asked: "What do you propose to do?" Jadassohn answered very seriously and with a smile of resigned determination: "I am about to adapt my outward appearance more appropriately to my patriotic convictions. … When Diederich grasped the significance of these words, he could only incline his head respectfully. Jadassohn had already gone. In the background as he entered the station, his ears glowed once more—for the last time!—like two church windows in the light of the setting sun.
A group of men was approaching the station, a banner flying in their midst. A few policemen came heavily down the steps and faced them. Immediately the group began to sing the International. At the same time their advance was successfully repelled by the representatives of law and order. Some, it is true, got through and crowded around Napoleon Fischer, whose arms were so long that he seemed to drag his carpet bag almost along the ground. The men were recovering themselves in the refreshment room after their exertions in the July sun on behalf of the revolution. As the train was late Napoleon Fischer tried to make a speech on the platform, but the parliamentary representative was forbidden to do so by a policeman. Napoleon put down his carpet bag and bared his teeth. As Diederich knew him, he was evidently on the point of resisting the power of the State. Fortunately for him the train drew up. Only then Diederich noticed a lowsized gentleman, who turned away whenever people passed
