"That may be," replied George, and the thought that his home was no longer here, that he had no home at all anywhere, and would not have for a long time, suddenly overwhelmed him.
"How would it be," said Leo, "if we went on a tour together in the summer?—you, Bermann and I? I promise you that you won't be bored by theoretical conversation like you were once last autumn ... do you still remember?"
"Oh well," said Therese, stretching herself, "nothing will come of it anyway. Deeds, gentlemen!"
"And what comes of deeds?" asked Leo. "Putting them at the highest, they simply save individual situations for the time being."
"Yes, deeds which you do for yourself," said Therese. "But I only call a real deed what one is capable of doing for others, without any feeling of revenge, without any personal vanity, and if possible anonymously."
At last George had to go. What a lot of things he still had to see to.
"I'll come part of the way with you," said Therese to him.
Leo embraced him again, and said: "It really was nice of you."
Therese disappeared to fetch her hat and jacket. George went into the next room. Old Frau Golowski seemed to have been waiting for him; with a strangely anxious face she came up to him and put an envelope in his hand.
"What is that?"