It pains me indeed that I can render you no other aid or hope.

You alone can do what none other can do for you .-- Farewell!" He turned, and motioning to Moritz not to follow him, almost flew down the stairs into the street.

Drawing a long breath, he stood leaning against the door, gazing at the crowd--at the busy passers-by--some merrily chatting with their companions, others with earnest mien and in busy haste.

No one seemed to care for him, no one looked at him.

If by chance they glanced at him, Johann Wolfgang Goethe was of no more consequence to them than any other honest citizen in a neighboring doorway.
Without perhaps acknowledging it to himself, Goethe was a little vexed that no one observed him; that the weather-maker from Weimar, who was accustomed to be greeted there, and everywhere, indeed, with smiles and bows, should here in Berlin be only an ordinary mortal--a stranger among strangers.