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."