METROPOLIS It seemed to him that an eternity had passed since he sent Slim'aut for news of his son. And Slim wouldn't and wouldn't come back.
Jah Fredersen felt iliat his whole body was frozen to an icy coldness. His hands, hanging helplessly dOwnW81"ds, were
clasped around the pocket-torch. He waited .. . waited....
Jah Fredersen threw a glance at the clock. But the hands of the giantness stood at an impossible time. The New Tower of Babel had indeed lost itself. Whereas, every day, the throbbing of the streets which tunnelled their course below it, the roar of the traffic of fifty million, the magic madness of speed, had raged its way up to him, there now crouched a calin of penetrating terror.
Stumbling steps were hastening towards the door of the outer room.
Jah Fredersen turned the beam of his pocket-torch, upon this door. It flew wide open. Slim stood upon the threshold. He staggered. He closed his eyes dazzled. In the excessively glaring light of the powerful torch his face, right down to his neck, shone a greenish white.
Joh Fredersen wanted to ask a question. But not the least sound passed his lips. A terrible dryness burnt his throat. The lamp in his hand began to tremble and to dance. Up to the ceiling, down to the Boor, along the walls; reeled the beam of ligbt.... Slim ran up to Job Fredersen. Slim's wide, staring eyes bore an inextinguishable horror. "'Your son," he stammered, almost babbling, "your SOD, Mr. Fredersen-" Joh Fredersen remained silent. He made no movement,
but that he stooped a little-just a very little, forward. "1 have not found your son... :' said Slim. He did not wait for Jah Fredersen to answer him. His tall body, with the impression it gave of asceticism and cruelty, the movements
of which had, in Job Fredersen's service, gradually gained the disinterested accuracy of a machine. seemed quite out of joint. shaken out of control. His voice inquired shrilly, in
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