BUDDENBROOKS
one of his short fat white hands the visitor held his stick; in the other his green Tyrolese hat, decorated with a chamois beard.
The Frau Consul had taken off her glasses and was still rising from her sofa-pillow.
“What can I do for you?” she asked politely but pointedly.
The gentleman, with a movement of decision, laid his hat and stick on the lid of the harmonium. He rubbed his free hands with satisfaction and looked at the Frau Consul out of his kindly, light-blue eyes. “I beg the gracious lady’s pardon for the card,” he said. “I had no other by me. My name is Permaneder—Alois Permaneder, from Munich. Perhaps you might have heard my name from your daughter.” He said all this in a puzzling dialect with a rather loud, coarse voice; but there was a confidential gleam from the cracks of his eyes, which seemed to say: “I’m sure we understand each other already.”
The Frau Consul had now risen entirely and went forward with her hand outstretched and her head inclined in greeting.
“Herr Permaneder! Is it you? Certainly my daughter has spoken of you. I know how much you contributed to make her visit in Munich pleasant and entertaining. And so some wind has blown you all the way up here?”
“That's it; you’re just right there,” said Herr Permaneder. He sat down by the Frau Consul in the armchair which she gracefully indicated to him, and began to rub his short round thighs comfortably with both hands.
“I beg your pardon?” asked the Frau Consul. She had not understood a single word of his remark.
“You've guessed it, that’s the point,” answered Herr Permaneder, as he stopped rubbing his knees.
“How nice!” said the Frau Consul blankly. She leaned back in her chair with feigned satisfaction and folded her hands. Actually, she was quite as much at sea as before, and only wondering if Antonie were really able to follow the
