"You can't imagine how glad I was ..." began George.
"I believe you.... But please come in with me. We are having dinner, you know, but it's nearly over."
He took him into the next room. The family was gathered round the table.
"I don't think you know my father yet," observed Leo, and introduced them to each other.
Old Golowski got up, put away the serviette which he had tied round his neck and held out his hand to George. The latter was surprised that the old man should look so completely different from what he had expected. He was not patriarchal, grey-bearded and venerable, but with his clean-shaven face and broad cunning features looked more like an ageing provincial comedian than anything else.
"I am very glad to make your acquaintance, Herr Baron," he said, while one could read in his crafty eyes ... "I know everything."
Therese hastily asked George the conventional questions: when he had come, how long he was staying, how he was; he answered patiently and courteously, and she looked him in the face with animation and curiosity.
Then he asked Leo about his plans for the near future.
"I must first practise the piano industriously, so as not to make a fool of myself before my pupils. People were very nice to me, of course. I had books, as many as I wanted, but they certainly didn't put a piano at my disposition." He turned to Therese. "You should certainly flog that point to death in one of your next speeches. This bad treatment of prisoners awaiting trial must be abolished."
"It was no laughing matter for him this time yesterday," said old Golowski.