Anton, Line, Trine, and Sophie took leave of Ma’am Grünlich. The coach
door was about to be slammed, when Tony was overtaken by a sudden
impulse. Despite all the trouble it took, she unwound herself again
from her wrappings, climbed ruthlessly over Herr Grünlich, who began to
grumble, and embraced her Father with passion. “Adieu, Papa, adieu, my
good Papa.” And then she whispered softly: “Are you satisfied with me?”
The Consul pressed her without words to his heart, then put her from
him and shook her hands with deep feeling.
Now everything was ready. The coach door slammed, the coachman cracked
his whip, the horses dashed away so that the coach windows rattled; the
Frau Consul let fly her little white handkerchief; and the carriage,
rolling down the street, disappeared in the mist.
The Consul stood thoughtfully next to his wife, who drew her cloak
about her shoulders with a graceful movement.
“There she goes, Betsy.”
“Yes, Jean, the first to leave us. Do you think she is happy with him?”
“Oh, Betsy, she is satisfied with herself, which is better; it is the
most solid happiness we can have on this earth.”
They went back to their guests.
CHAPTER XV
Thomas Buddenbrook went down Meng Street as far as the “Five Houses.”
He avoided Broad Street so as not to be accosted by acquaintances and
obliged to greet them. With his hands deep in the big pockets of his
warm dark grey overcoat, he walked, sunk in thought, over the hard,
sparkling snow, which crunched under his boots. He went his own way,
and whither it led no one knew but himself. The sky was pale blue and
clear, the air biting and crisp--a still, severe, clear weather, with
five degrees of frost; in short, a matchless February day.
Thomas walked down the “Five Houses,” crossed Bakers’ Alley, and went
along a narrow cross-street into Fishers’ Lane. He followed this
street, which led down to the Trave parallel to Meng Street, for a few
steps, and paused before a small house, a modest flower-shop, with a
narrow door and dingy show-window, where a few pots of onions stood on
a pane of green glass.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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