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Updated: June 11, 2025
If I had not head the sounds from next door, and had not had the realities of our dinner before me, I should have thought I was dreaming." "What has put you out so, my dear Paul?" said Wilhelm. "What! Are you men of flesh and blood? Are you really alive? There we sat for four mortal hours, and the talk was wearisome to a degree, never one sensible word." "Now! now!" protested Schrotter.
Since recounting the conversation about the donkey in Ault, he had never again mentioned Pilar to his friend, nor betrayed by a single word the circumstances in which he had lived since the middle of August. Such disclosures would have necessitated a moral effort on his part, for which even his friendship for Schrotter could not supply him with sufficient force.
The lieutenant of police began by asking their names. When they told him "Dr. Schrotter, M. D. one of the members for Berlin and Professor Emeritus," and "Dr. Eynhardt, Doctor of Philosophy, householder," he offered them chairs. The informer introduced himself as "non-commissioned officer Patke, retired, member of a military association, and candidate for the private constabulary."
From time to time we come to some fragrant lotus-flower, which we may gather." And when Wilhelm complained that the philosophy of the world is so egoistic, Dr. Schrotter answered, "Egoism is a word. It depends on what meaning is attached to it. Every living being strives after something he calls happiness, and all happiness is only a spur goading us on to the search.
He knew Wilhelm's views on the subject of posthumous fame, and the immortality of the individual, and considered it inexpedient to punish the clever young professor for being a man like the rest. About three months after Wilhelm's death Schrotter received one more letter from Auguste.
At the breaking up of the household, Monsieur le Docteur's things had been handed over to him, Auguste, and he held them at monsieur's disposal. Schrotter wrote in answer that he might keep them, and sent him a small sum of money as a bequest from Wilhelm. Pilar's suicide made somewhat of an impression on him.
As Wilhelm looked at him with suppressed reproach, Schrotter laid his hand on the young man's shoulder. "You no doubt think me a hard-hearted old fogey you miss the ring of romance in what I say. That is quite natural. The language of reason always sounds flat to the ear of passion and not to passion only, but to sentimentality and feebleness. Let us finish. You know my advice.
Do not seek to find additional reasons for a fact which has already sprung up from unknown forces. It was sympathy which impelled you, the natural feeling for a fellow-creature. And that is right and natural." Wilhelm looked at Schrotter gratefully as he affectionately grasped his hand.
It did not seem credible, and Schrotter seemed conscious of the immense difference between the man who had written the book and the man who now read it. His voice had a slightly ironical sound, and he parodied some of the scenes in reading them, by exaggerating the pathos. But this could not last long.
Go home, and ponder my words." So saying, she walked back to her seat. But seeing that Von Schrotter's lips were parted as if in an attempt to say something, she snatched her bell, and rang it so loud that in its clang his words were lost. "Counsellor Von Schrotter is dismissed," said she to the page. "Open the doors, that he may pass."
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