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Updated: June 29, 2025
The Clerk of the Privy Chancery was a quiet, peaceable, nay, timorous man, incapable of saying a hard word to anybody, even when attacked; but what the goldsmith had said was just a trifle too infernally insulting; and then, Tussmann had taken more strong wine than he was accustomed to.
Tussmann would be content with very little in the shape of portion, and Bosswinkel hated bother of every kind, disliked making new acquaintances, and, in his capacity of a Commissionsrath, thought a great deal more of money than he ought to have done. The Clerk of the Privy Chancery was at first alarmed at the suggestion.
You will be looked upon with horror and contempt. Nobody will ask you to dinner, and if you go to a café to see what's in the papers, you will be shown to the door, or kicked downstairs; and more than that, Tussmann bears the very highest character in his profession. All his superiors have a very high opinion of him; the Government departments think him a most valuable official.
Without wasting a thought on Albertine or the Commissionsrath, Tussmann went and sat down in an armchair in a corner, stuck the book into his pocket, pulled it out again, and it was easy to see, by the delight in his countenance, how completely the Goldsmith's promise had been fulfilled. It was the Baron's turn next.
Why it is Thomasius's treatise, my beloved Thomasius, rescued from the congregation of frogs in the pond, who would never have learned diplomatic acumen from him." "Keep yourself calm," the Goldsmith said; "put the book into your pocket again." Tussmann did so. "Think of some other rare work," the Goldsmith said: "one which you have never been able to come across in any library."
The Goldsmith took a handkerchief of dazzling whiteness out of his pocket, and wiped Tussmann's face with it. The bright lights of the Weberschen Zelt were visible, shining brightly through the trees. Tussmann cried out, in alarm "For God's sake, Herr Professor, where are you taking me? Good heavens! I can't be seen. Wherever I go I give rise to unpleasantness create a scandalum."
"I don't know about 'bearing' him, or whether he's an 'old creature' or not," said her father. "What you have got to do is to marry him. Certainly my friend Tussmann is not one of your giddy young fools.
As he was making these asseverations, there was heard a loud knocking at the door, and in came that old Manasseh of whom Bosswinkel had been speaking. As soon as Tussmann saw him he cried out: "Oh, gracious powers of Heaven! That's the old Jew who made the gold pieces out of the radish, and threw them in the Goldsmith's face! The dreadful Goldsmith will be coming next, I suppose."
Tussmann could not find words to express his indignation at this notion on the part of his old friend. He vowed, over and over again, that he was most devotedly in love with Miss Albertine; that he would die for her without the least hesitation, like a Leander or a Troilus, and that the Devil might beat him black and blue, in his innocence, as a martyr, rather than he should give Albertine up.
Tussmann, you can see the man before you, in all his works and ways. But, as regards his outward man, I ought to add that he was short of stature, very bald, a little bow-legged, and very grotesque in his dress.
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