Part 23 (1/2)

He was deadly pale, as pale as when he had come back blood-spattered to the lecture, from that walk of his. The nerves controlling the blood-vessels that supplied his face functioned so well that the skin, robbed of all its blood, went quite cold, the nose looked peaked, and the hollows beneath the young eyes were lead-coloured as any corpse's. And the Sympathicus Sympathicus caused his heart, Hans Castorp's heart, to thump, in such a way that it was impossible to breathe except in gasps; and s.h.i.+vers ran over him, due to the functioning of the sebaceous glands, which, with the hair follicles, erected themselves. caused his heart, Hans Castorp's heart, to thump, in such a way that it was impossible to breathe except in gasps; and s.h.i.+vers ran over him, due to the functioning of the sebaceous glands, which, with the hair follicles, erected themselves.

She stood there, in her paper cap, and looked him up and down, with a smile that betrayed no trace of pity, nor any concern for the ravages written on his brow. The s.e.x knows no such compa.s.sion, no mercy for the pangs that pa.s.sion brings; in that element the woman is far more at home than the man, to whom, by his very nature, it is foreign. Nor does she ever encounter him in it save with mocking and malignant joy-compa.s.sion, indeed, he would have none of.

He had used the second person singular. She answered: ”I? Perhaps I have, let me see.” Her voice and smile did betray an excitement, a consciousness-such as comes when the first word is uttered in a relations.h.i.+p long secretly sustained-a subtle consciousness, which concentrates all the past in a single moment of the present. ”You are so eager-you are very ambitious”-she continued thus to mock him, in her slightly veiled, pleasantly husky voice, with her quaint p.r.o.nunciation, giving a foreign sound to the r r and making the vowels too open, even accenting the word ambitious on the first syllable, with exotic effect; rummaging and peering the while in her leather bag, whence she fetched out, first a handkerchief, and then a little silver pencil, slender and fragile, a pretty trinket scarcely meant for use-the other, the first one, had been something more to take hold of. and making the vowels too open, even accenting the word ambitious on the first syllable, with exotic effect; rummaging and peering the while in her leather bag, whence she fetched out, first a handkerchief, and then a little silver pencil, slender and fragile, a pretty trinket scarcely meant for use-the other, the first one, had been something more to take hold of.

”Voila,” she said, and held the toy by its end before his eyes, between thumb and forefinger, and lightly turned it to and fro.

Since she thus both gave and withheld it, he took it, so to speak, without receiving it: that is, he held out his hand, with the fingers ready to grasp the delicate thing, but not actually touching it. His eyes-in their leaden sockets-went from the little object to Clavdia's Tartar physiognomy. His bloodless lips were open, and so remained, he did not use them to utter the words, as he said: ”You see, I knew you would have one.” ”Prenez garde, il est un peu fragile” il est un peu fragile” she said. she said. ”C'est a visser ”C'est a visser, tu sais.” tu sais.”

Their heads bent over it together, and she showed him the mechanism-it was quite ordinary, the little needle of hard, probably worthless lead came down as one loosened the screw.

They stood bent toward each other. The stiff collar of his evening dress served him to support his chin.

”A poor thing-but yours yours,” he said, brow to brow with her, speaking down upon the pencil, stiff-lipped, so that most of the l.a.b.i.als went unsounded.

”Ah, so you are even witty,” she answered him, with a short laugh. She straightened up, and surrendered the pencil. It is a question by what means he was witty, since it was plain there was not a drop of blood in his head. ”Well, away with you, go and draw, draw yourself out!” And wittily in her turn, she seemed to drive him away. ”But you have not drawn yet, you must draw too,” he said, without managing the m m in must, and drew a step backwards, invitingly. in must, and drew a step backwards, invitingly.

”I?” she said again, with an inflection of surprise which seemed to have reference to something else than his invitation. She stood a moment in smiling confusion, then as if magnetized followed him a few steps toward the punch-table.

But interest in the activity there seemed to have fallen away. Someone was still drawing, but without an audience. The cards were covered with futilities, they had all done their worst, and now the current had set in another direction. Directly the doctors had left the scene, the word had gone round for a dance, already the tables were being pushed back; spies were posted at the doors of the writing- and music-rooms, with orders to give the sign in case the ”old man,” Krokowski, or the Oberin should show themselves. A young Slavic youth attacked con espressione con espressione the keyboard of the little nut-wood piano, and the first couple began to turn about within an irregular circle of chairs and tables, on which the spectators perched themselves. the keyboard of the little nut-wood piano, and the first couple began to turn about within an irregular circle of chairs and tables, on which the spectators perched themselves.

Hans Castorp dismissed the departing punch-table with a wave of the hand, andindicated with his chin two empty seats in a sheltered corner of the small salon, near the portieres. He did not speak, perhaps because the music was too loud. He drew up a seat-it was a reclining-chair with plush upholstery-for Frau Chauchat, in the corner he had indicated, and took for himself a creaking, crackling basket-chair with curling arms, in which he sat down, bent forward toward her, his own arms on the arms of the chair, her pencil in his hand and his feet drawn back under his seat. She lay buried in the plushy slope, her knees brought high; notwithstanding which, she crossed one leg over the other, and swung her foot in the air, in its black patent-leather shoe and black silk stocking spanned over the anklebone. There was a coming and going in the room, some of the guests standing up to dance, while others took their places to rest. ”You've a new frock on,” he said, as an excuse for looking at her; and heard her answer. ”New? So you are acquainted with my wardrobe?” ”Am I right?”

”Yes-I had it made here lately; the tailor down in the village, Lukacek, did it. He does work for several of the ladies up here. Do you like it?”

”Very much,” he said, surveying her once more and then casting down his eyes. ”Would you like to dance?” he added.

”Would you like to?” she asked, with lifted brows, yet smiling, and he answered: ”I would, if you wished.”

”That is not so brave as I thought you were,” she said, and when he laughed deprecatingly, she went on: ”Your cousin has gone up already.”

”Yes, he is my cousin,” he confirmed her, unnecessarily. ”I noticed he had gone, he is probably in the rest-cure by now.” ”C'est un jeune homme tres etroit, tres honnete tres honnete, tres allemand.” tres allemand.”

”etroit? Honnete?” he repeated. ”I understand French better than I speak it. You mean he is pedantic. You think we are pedantic, we Germans- he repeated. ”I understand French better than I speak it. You mean he is pedantic. You think we are pedantic, we Germans-nous autres allemands ?” allemands ?”

”Nous causons de votre cousin. Mais c'est vrai Mais c'est vrai, you are a little bourgeois. Vous Vous aimez l'ordre mieux que la liberte aimez l'ordre mieux que la liberte, toute l'Europe le sait.” toute l'Europe le sait.”

”Aimer, aimer-qu'est-ce que c'est? ca manque de definition, ce mot la aimer-qu'est-ce que c'est? ca manque de definition, ce mot la. We love what we have not-that is proverbial,” Hans Castorp a.s.serted. ”Lately,” he went on, ”I've thought very much about liberty. That is, I've heard the word so often, I've begun to think about it. Je te le dirai en francais Je te le dirai en francais, what I have been thinking. Ce que Ce que toute l'Europe nomme la liberte toute l'Europe nomme la liberte, c'est peut-etre une chose a.s.sez pedante et a.s.sez c'est peut-etre une chose a.s.sez pedante et a.s.sez bourgeoise en comparaison de notre besoin d'ordre-c'est ca!” bourgeoise en comparaison de notre besoin d'ordre-c'est ca!”

”Tiens! C'est amusant! C'est ton cousin a qui tu penses en disant des choses etranges comme ca?” etranges comme ca?”

”No, c'est vraiment une bonne ame c'est vraiment une bonne ame, a simple nature, not exposed to intellectual dangers, tu sais tu sais. Mais il n'est pas bourgeois Mais il n'est pas bourgeois, il est militaire.” il est militaire.”

”Not exposed?” she repeated his word, not without difficulty. ”Tu veux dire unenature tout a fait ferme, sur d'elle-meme? Mais il est serieus.e.m.e.nt malade sur d'elle-meme? Mais il est serieus.e.m.e.nt malade, ton pauvrecousin.” ton pauvrecousin.”

”Who told you so?”

”We all know about each other, up here.”

”Was it Hofrat Behrens?”

”Peut-etre en me faisant voir ces tableaux.”