His face, when he was alone, changed so that it was hardly
recognizable. The muscles of his mouth and cheeks, otherwise obedient
to his will, relaxed and became flabby. Like a mask the look of vigour,
alertness, and amiability, which now for a long time had been preserved
only by constant effort, fell from his face, and betrayed an anguished
weariness instead. The tired, worried eyes gazed at objects without
seeing them; they became red and watery. He made no effort to deceive
even himself; and of all the dull, confused, and rambling thoughts that
filled his mind he clung to only one: the single, despairing thought
that Thomas Buddenbrook, at forty-three years, was an old, worn-out man.
He rubbed his hand over his eyes and forehead, drawing a long, deep
breath, mechanically lighted another cigarette, though he knew they
were bad for him, and continued to gaze through the smoke-haze into the
darkness. What a contrast between that relaxed and suffering face and
the elegant, almost military style of his hair and beard! the stiffened
and perfumed mustaches, the meticulously shaven cheeks and chin, and
the careful hair-dressing which sedulously hid a beginning thinness.
The hair ran back in two longish bays from the delicate temples, with
a narrow parting on top; over the ears it was not long and waving, but
kept short-cut now, in order not to betray how grey it had grown. He
himself felt the change and knew it could not have escaped the eyes of
others: the contrast between his active, elastic movements and the dull
pallor of his face.
Not that he was in reality less of an important and indispensable
personage than he always had been. His friends said, and his enemies
could not deny, that Senator Buddenbrook was the Burgomaster’s right
hand: Burgomaster Langhals was even more emphatic on that point than
his predecessor Överdieck had been. But the firm of Johann Buddenbrook
was no longer what it had been--this seemed to be common property, so
much so that Herr Stuht discussed it with his wife over their bacon
broth--and Thomas Buddenbrook groaned over the fact.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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