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Updated: June 18, 2025
Aristocratic, very!” He stared over Gertrude’s head into the corner, and tittered for at least a half a minute. Nobody said a word. Everybody was dumb, astounded. “Good lord, social obligations,” continued Herr Carovius, “but after all you can’t afford to be a backwoodsman. Music is supposed to ennoble a man even externally. By the way, there is a rumour afloat that it is a symphony with chorus.
Often in the nighttime, Herr Carovius recognised in the distance the massive figure of his brother-in-law, Andreas Döderlein, the professor of music. Not wishing to meet him, Herr Carovius would stand at the street corner, until the light from Döderlein’s study assured him that the professor was at home. On other occasions he would come in contact with the occupant of the second floor, Dr.
After all the other people had gone, Daniel, Benda, Wurzelmann, and Eleanore came along. Daniel’s storm cape fluttered in the wind; his hat was drawn down over his eyes. Herr Carovius stepped up before him. “A heroic deed, my dear Nothafft,” he miauled. “I could embrace you. From this time on you can count me among your friends. Now stand still, you human being transformed into a hurricane.
“So far as I am concerned,” continued Jordan, without noticing the aversion his affability had aroused in Herr Carovius, “I can now face death with perfect peace of mind. My mission is ended; my work is done.” “That sounds as if you had discovered the philosopher’s stone,” remarked Herr Carovius sarcastically.
Daniel bade Herr Carovius adieu, and went walking down the street with bowed head. In the province, Dorothea Döderlein, fresh from the Bavarian capital, was a phenomenon that attracted general attention. Her conduct seemed, to be sure, a bit liberal, but then she was an artist, and her name appeared in the newspapers every now and then, so it was only natural to make allowances for her.
They discussed the affair in a dry, business-like way, and then, all of a sudden, Herr Carovius fixed his piercing eyes on the Baron, walked around the table time after time, dressed in his sleeping gown, and told, without the omission of a single detail, of the lamentable death of Daniel Nothafft’s young wife.
Some boys were playing ball close by the fountain. When they saw the three men looking at it, they quit playing, came up, and looked at the fountain and the men and grinned as if there were something new to be seen. “We have no idea what riches we possess,” said Herr Carovius. “Quite right, quite right,” nodded the apothecary.
Her cloak was not buttoned; it flew in the air. The people who saw her stopped and looked at her, amazed. Herr Carovius and Jordan were sitting in the Paradise Café. “How things change, and how everything clears up and straightens out!” remarked Jordan. “Yes, the open graves are gaping again,” said Herr Carovius cynically.
She asked Herr Carovius to have patience, adding that he would hear from her in a few days—as soon as she had talked the matter over with her husband. She nipped in the bud a zealous reply he was about to make, and nodded a momentary farewell to Dorothea, who put her violin in the case, took the case in her hand, curtsied, and followed her uncle out of the room.
He felt his heart grow faint; he felt a burning desire for something, though he was unable to say precisely what, something sweet and radiant. On the last landing he stopped, and looked with utter amazement into the hall below. Herr Carovius was dancing like a Merry-Andrew around the door of his residence.
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