king flower," he said lightly, and held out his
pudgy hand. "Theresa will put you up in the little room under the
store-room. You have a pleasant view of the river there."

Theresa handed him the bread. He sniffed at it, and frowned because it
wasn't thickly enough buttered. But he had not the courage to complain.
He bit into it, and, with full cheeks, turned once more to Marian.

"Well, that son of yours has disappeared again. A nice situation.
Shouldn't wonder if he ended in the penitentiary. The best thing would
be to ship him off to America; but it isn't clear to me how we're to
get hold of him at all. It was really premature to ask you to come."

"If only I knew what he's living on," Marian whispered, with repressed
anguish.

Jason Philip indulged with broad psychical comfort in an anecdote: "I
was reading the other day how a giraffe escaped from the Zoo. You've
heard of giraffes. They are long-necked quadrupeds, very stupid and
stubborn. The silly beast had run off into the woods, and the people
didn't know how to capture it. Then the keeper hung the stable-lantern
over his chest and a bundle of hay on his back, and at nightfall went
into the woods. Scarcely had the giraffe noticed the gleam of the
lantern when it came up in its curiosity. At once the man swung around.
It smelled the hay, nibbled, and began to feed. Slowly the man went on,
and the beast went on nibbling and feeding. First thing you know it was
back in its cage. Now don't you think that when hunger begins to torment
him, your Daniel could be tamed with a bit of hay too? It's worth your
thinking about."

Jason Philip laughed merrily, and Zwanziger grinned. His boss was a
source of humour. At night, when he sat in his favourite tap-rooms over
his beer, he would entertain his boon companions with the witticisms of
Schimmelweis, and always won their applause.

A lean old man with kid gloves and a top-hat entered the shop. It was
growing dark, and he had peered carefully about before entering. He
hurried up to Jason Philip, and said in a cracked falsetto: "How about
the new publications? Anything very fine?" He rubbed his hands, and
stared stupidly from under his thin, reddish lids. It was Count
Schlemm-Nottheim, a cousin of the Baron von Auffenberg, the leader of
the liberal party.

"I'm entirely at your service, sir," said Jason Philip, holding himself
as rigidly as a sergeant who is being addressed by a captain.

He led the count to a corner