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Updated: May 9, 2025
Seehaase determinedly, and lie gathered up the sheets, folded them, and returned them. "That must suffice, Peterson," he repeated brusquely, furtively closing his eyes and shaking his head as a sign to desist. "We must not detain the gentleman longer. The carriage is waiting. I earnestly beg you to excuse the little inconvenience, sir.
Tonio Kröger answered him. "Is that true?" said the policeman, straightening up and suddenly opening his nostrils as far as he could ... "Quite true," answered Tonio Kröger. "And what are you?" Tonio Kröger swallowed and named his calling with firm voice. Mr. Seehaase raised his head and looked curiously up into his face. "Hm," said the policeman.
Seehaase that he was no swindler of uncertain competence, by birth no gipsy in a green wagon, but the son of Consul Kröger, of the Kröger family? No, he had no desire for that. And did not these men of the civic order really have a little right on their side? To a certain extent he was quite in agreement with them ... He shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.
"But that you shouldn't be able to show any papers at all." Now Mr. Seehaase interposed conciliatingly. "The whole thing is only a formality," he said, "nothing more. You must reflect that the official is only doing his duty. If you can identify yourself in any way ... Any document ..." All were silent. Should he put an end to the affair by making himself known, by revealing to Mr.
Seehaase led his guest back through the vestibule amid repeated expressions of regret, escorted him out between the two lions to his carriage, and closed the carriage door himself with attestations of his esteem. And then the ridiculously broad and high cab rolled down the steep streets to the harbor, rocking, rattling, and rumbling ... This was Tonio Kröger's strange sojourn in his native city.
"Your pardon," he said, thrusting back either cuff into its sleeve with the little finger ... "Excuse me, sir, that we must still claim a minute of your time. Mr. Seehaase, the owner of the hotel, begs for a very brief conversation with you. A mere formality ... He is back yonder ... Will you have the goodness to go with me ... It is only Mr. Seehaase, the owner of the hotel."
"What is that you have there?" asked the officer. "There in that portfoly?" "Here? Nothing. Proof-sheets," answered Tonio Kröger. "Proof-sheets? How so? Let me see a minute." And Tonio Kröger handed them over to him. The policeman spread them out on the desk and began to read them. Mr. Seehaase also stepped closer and participated in the reading.
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