n Innstetten came and called to her to come up
on deck and enjoy the glorious landscape. She went up. Over the
surface of the water hung gray clouds and only now and then could one
catch a half-veiled glimpse of the sun through a rift in the dense
mass. Effi thought of the day, just a year and a quarter ago, when she
had driven in an open carriage along the shore of this same "Broad." A
brief span, and life often so quiet and lonely. Yet how much had
happened since then!

Thus they sailed up the fairway and at two o'clock were at the station
or very near it. As they, a moment later, passed the Prince Bismarck
Hotel, Golchowski, who was again standing at the door, joined them and
accompanied them to the steps leading up the embankment. At the
station they found the train was not yet signaled, so they walked up
and down on the platform. Their conversation turned about the question
of an apartment. They agreed on the quarter of the city, that it must
be between the Tiergarten and the Zoological Garden. "I want to hear
the finches sing and the parrots scream," said Innstetten, and Effi
was willing.

Then they heard the signal and the train ran into the station. The
station master was full of attentions and Effi received a compartment
to herself.

Another handshake, a wave of her handkerchief, and the train began
again to move.

CHAPTER XXIII

[Effi was met at the Berlin station by her mother and Cousin von
Briest. While drinking tea in the mother's room Cousin von Briest was
asked to tell a joke, and propounded a Bible conundrum, which Effi
took as an omen that no more sorrow was to befall her. The following
day began the search for an apartment, and one was found on Keith
street, which exactly suited, except that the house was not finished
and the walls not yet dried out. Effi kept it in mind, however, and
looked further, being as long about it as possible. After two weeks
Innstetten began to insist on her return and to make pointed
allusions. She saw there was nothing left but to sham illness. Then
she rented the apartment on Keith street, wrote a card saying she
would be home the next day, and had the trunks packed. The next
morning she stayed in bed and feigned illness, but preferred not to
call a doctor. She telegraphed about her delay to her husband. After
three days of the farce she yielded to her mother and called an old
ladies' doctor by the name of Rummschuettel ('Shake 'em around'). After
a few qu