sinner. Herr Grünlich did not rise at their entrance. He waited, erect and composed, on the edge of the sofa, buttoned up tight in his ulster.
“So you’ve been behaving like a silly fool?” bellowed the captain to Morten.
The young man had his thumb stuck between the buttons of his jacket. He scowled and puffed out his cheeks defiantly.
“Yes, Father,” he said, “Fräulein Buddenbrook and I—”
“Well, then, I’ll just tell you you’re a perfect Tom-fool, a young ninny, and you’ll be packed off to-morrow for Göttingen—to-morrow, understand? It’s all damned childish nonsense, and rascality into the bargain.”
“Good heavens, Diederich,” said Frau Schwarzkopf, folding her hands, “you can’t just say that, you know. Who knows—?” She stopped, she said no more; but it was plain from her face that a mother’s beautiful dream had been shattered in that moment.
“Would the gentleman like to see the young lady?” Schwarkopf turned to Herr Grünlich and spoke in a harsh voice.
“She is upstairs in her room asleep,” Frau Schwarzkopf said with feeling.
“I regret,” said Herr Grünlich, and he got up, obviously relieved. “But I repeat that my time is limited, and the carriage waits. I permit myself,” he went on, describing with his hat a motion in the direction of Herr Schwarzkopf, “to acknowledge to you, Herr Captain, my entire recognition of your manly and high-principled bearing. I salute you. Good-bye.”
Diederich Schwarzkopf did not offer to shake hands with him. He merely gave a jerky bow with the upper part of his heavy figure, that had an air of saying: “This is the proper thing, I suppose.”
Herr Grünlich, with measured tread, passed between Morten and his mother and went out the door.
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