Since Christian hesitated to answer, the Privy Councillor, not without embarrassment in his turn, went on: “You must forgive me for coming upon you so suddenly. I could not know whether you would consent to such an explanation as has become necessary, and so I made no announcement of my coming. You will understand that this step was not an easy one to take.” Christian nodded. “Won’t you sit down?” he asked, courteously. “Not yet, if you don’t mind. There are things that cannot be discussed while one is sitting still. They have not been thought out in that posture either.” The Privy Councillor opened his fur-coat. His attitude was one of superiority and dignity. His silvery, carefully trimmed beard contrasted picturesquely with the silky blackness of his fur. There was an oppressive pause. “Is mother well?” Christian asked. The Privy Councillor’s face twitched. The conventional tone of the question made it seem frivolous to him. Worn out for a moment by this dumb summons to laws of life that had lost their content and their meaning for him, Christian said: “Will you permit me to withdraw for five minutes? I had been sleeping when you rang. I think it was a sleep of many hours, and in my clothes, too, so I must wash. And I want also to beg you to take along a little package for mother. It contains an object that she values. I’m sorry that I haven’t the right to explain more fully. Perhaps, if you desire, she will give you the explanation herself, since the whole matter now belongs to the past. So pardon me for a few minutes; I shall be at your service almost immediately.” He went into the adjoining room. The Privy Councillor looked after him with consternation in his large, blue eyes. While he was alone, he did not stir nor move a muscle of his body. Christian re-entered. He had bathed his face and combed his hair. He gave the Privy Councillor a little package tied with a cord. On the white paper wrapping he had written: “For my mother. Gratefully returned on the day of final parting. One piece is lacking through the force of unavoidable circumstances; its value has been made up to me a thousandfold. Greeting and farewell. Christian.” The Privy Councillor read the words. “More riddles?” he asked, coldly. “Why riddles on a placard? Have you not time to write a letter? Your ways were more courtly once.” “Mother will understand,” Christian replied. “And have you no other message for her?” “None.” “May I ask the meaning of these words: ‘on the day of final parting’? You referred once before to departure....” “It would be more practical, perhaps, if you first told me the purpose of your visit.” “You have still your old technique of evasion.”