“The father, who is a proud but kindly man, and who loves his son above anything on earth, makes up his mind to visit the old man, himself. He gains entrance to the house without difficulty. He finds the old man, and with him, the girl. He says to the girl: ‘Save my son!’ “The girl looks at him and says, with the most graciously inhuman of smiles: ‘You have no son....’ “He does not understand the meaning of these words. He wants to know more. He urges the girl. She always gives the same answer. He urges the old man—he lifts his shoulders. There is a perfidious smile about his mouth.... “Suddenly the man comprehends.... He goes home. He repeats the girl’s words to his wife. She breaks down and confesses her sin—a sin which, after twenty years, has not yet died down. But she is not concerned with her own fate. She has no thought apart from her son. Shame, desertion, loneliness—all are nothing; but the son is everything. “She goes to the girl and falls on her knees before her: ‘I beg you, in the name of God’s mercy, save my son...!’ The girl looks at her, smiles and says: ‘You have no son....’ The woman believes that she has a lunatic before her. But the girl was right. The son, who had been a secret witness to the conversation between the husband and the mother, had ended his life....” “Marinus?” “Yes.” “... A terrible coincidence, Jan, but still, not a spirit.” “Coincidence?—Not a spirit?—And what do you call it, Freder,” continued Jan, speaking quite close to Freder’s ear, “when this girl can appear in two places at once?” “That’s absolute rubbish....” “Rubbish—? It’s the truth, Freder! The girl was seen standing at the window in Rotwang’s house—and, at the same time, she was dancing her sinful dance in Yoshiwara....” “That is not true—!” said Freder. “It is true!” “You have seen the girl ... in Yoshiwara—?” “You can see her yourself, if you like....” “What’s the girl’s name?” “Maria....” Freder laid his forehead in his hands. He bent double, as in the throes of an agony, which otherwise God does not permit to visit mankind. “You know the girl?” asked Jan, bending forward. “No!” “But you love her,” said Jan, and behind these words lurked hatred, crouched to spring. Freder took his hand and said: “Come!” * * * * * “But,” continued Freder, fixing his eyes upon Josaphat, who was sitting there quite sunken together, while the rain was growing gentler, like hushed weeping, “Slim was suddenly standing there, beside me, and he said: ‘Will you not return home, Mr. Freder?’” Josaphat was silent for a long time: Freder, too, was silent. In the frame of the open door, which led out to the balcony, stood, hovering, the picture of the monster clock, on the New Tower of Babel, bathed in a white light. The large hand jerked to twelve. Then a sound arose throughout Metropolis.