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Updated: June 1, 2025
At the Fourteenth-Street crossing he became conscious that a young man was looking at him with respectful admiration and with the anxiety of one who fears a distinguished acquaintance has forgotten him. Feuerstein paused and in his grandest, most gracious manner, said: "Ah! Mr. Hartmann a glorious day!" Young Hartmann flushed with pleasure and stammered, "Yes a GLORIOUS day!"
In the narrow entrance he brushed against a man on the way out, a man with a hangdog look and short bristling hair and the pastily-pallid skin that comes from living long away from the sunlight. Feuerstein shivered slightly was it at the touch of such a creature or at the suggestions his appearance started? In front of him was a ground-glass partition with five doors in it.
On an afternoon late in April Feuerstein left his boarding-house in East Sixteenth Street, in the block just beyond the eastern gates of Stuyvesant Square, and paraded down Second Avenue. A romantic figure was Feuerstein, of the German Theater stock company. He was tall and slender, and had large, handsome features.
A few minutes and Hilda and Mr. Feuerstein were seated on a bench in the deep shadow of a tree, Sophie and Heilig walking slowly to and fro a short distance away. Heilig was miserable with despondent jealousy. He longed to inquire about this remarkable-looking new friend of Hilda's. For Mr. Feuerstein seemed to be of that class of strangers whom Avenue A condemns on their very appearance.
How much do you want how much damages?" "He ought to pay at least twenty-five thousand." Loeb shrugged his shoulders. "Ridiculous!" he said. "Possibly the five without the twenty. And how do you expect to pay us?" "I'm somewhat pressed just at the moment. But I thought" Feuerstein halted. "That we'd take the case as a speculation? Well, to oblige an old client, we will.
But Sophie, without letting go of Hilda's hand, paused and spoke to Otto. Thus Hilda was forced to stop and to say ungraciously: "Mr. Feuerstein, Mr. Heilig." Then she and Mr. Feuerstein went on, and Sophie drew the reluctant Otto in behind them. She gradually slackened her pace, so that she and Heilig dropped back until several couples separated them from Hilda and Mr. Feuerstein.
Brauner was once more in a good humor. Having agreed to tolerate Mr. Feuerstein, he was already taking a less unfavorable view of him. And Mr. Feuerstein laid himself out to win the owner of three tenements. He talked German politics with him in High-German, and applauded his accent and his opinions.
And as the knock came at the door she opened it. She had intended to be reproachful, but she could not. This splendid, romantic creature, with his graceful hat and his golden hair and his velvet collar, was too compelling, too overpowering. Her adoring love put her at a hopeless disadvantage. "Oh Mr. Feuerstein," she murmured, her color coming and going with the rise and fall of her bosom. Mr.
"Who are you?" he demanded in the insulting tone which exactly expressed his state of mind. Mr. Feuerstein cast up his eyes. "For Hilda's sake!" he murmured audibly. Then he made a great show of choking down his wrath. "I, sir, am of an ancient Prussian family a gentleman. I saw your peerless daughter, sought an introduction, careless who or what she was in birth and fortune.
"I want revenge." "Of course cash. Well, Ganser's a rich man. I should say he'd give up a good deal to get rid of YOU." Loeb gave that mirthless and mirth-strangling smile as he accented the "you." "He's got to give up!" said Feuerstein fiercely. "Slowly! Slowly!" Loeb leaned forward and looked into Feuerstein's face. "You mustn't forget."
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