George smiled amiably. As a matter of fact it rather jarred on his nerves. There was no necessity at all, in his view, for Doctor Stauber as well officially to communicate to him his membership of the Jewish community. He already knew it and bore him no grudge for it. He bore him no grudge at all for it; but why do they always begin to talk about it themselves? Wherever he went, he only met Jews who were ashamed of being Jews, or the type who were proud of it and were frightened of people thinking they were ashamed of it. "I had a chat with old Frau Golowski yesterday," continued Doctor Stauber. "Poor woman," said Herr Rosner. "How is she?" asked Anna. "How is she ... you can imagine ... her daughter in prison, her son a conscript--he is living in the barracks at the expense of the State ... just imagine Leo Golowski as a patriot ... and the old man sits in the café and watches the other people playing chess. He himself can't even run nowadays to the ten kreuzers for the chess money." "Therese's imprisonment must soon be over anyway," said Berthold. "It still lasts another twelve, fourteen days," replied his father.... "Come, Annerl"--he turned towards the young girl--"it would be really nice of you if you were to show yourself once more in Rembrandtstrasse; the old lady has taken an almost pathetic fancy to you. I really can't understand why," he added with a smile, while he looked at Anna almost tenderly. She looked straight in front of her and made no answer. The clock on the wall struck seven. George got up as though he had simply been waiting for the signal. "Going so soon, Herr Baron?" said Herr Rosner, getting up. George requested the company not to disturb themselves, and shook hands all round. "It is strange," said old Stauber, "how your voice reminds one of your poor father." "Yes, many people have said so," replied George. "I, personally, can't see any trace of it." "There isn't a man in the world who knows his own voice," remarked old Stauber, and it sounded like the beginning of a popular lecture. But George took his leave. Anna accompanied him, in spite of his slight remonstrance, into the hall and left the door half open--almost on purpose, so it struck George. "It's a pity we couldn't go on with our music any longer," she said. "I'm sorry too, Fräulein Anna." "I liked the song to-day even better than the first time, when I had to accompany myself, only it falls off a bit at the end.... I don't know how to express myself." "Oh, I know what you mean, the end is conventional. I felt so too. I hope soon to be able to bring you something better than that, Fräulein Anna." "But don't keep me waiting for it too long." "I certainly won't. Goodbye, Fräulein Anna." They shook hands with each other and both smiled. "Why didn't you come to Weissenfeld?" asked Anna lightly.