Contents:
VillaRubeinAManofDevonAKnightSalvationofaForsyteTheSilencePREFACE
Writingnotlongagotomyoldestliteraryfriend，Iexpressedinamomentofheedlesssentimentthewishthatwemighthaveagainoneofourtalksoflong—pastdays，overthepurposesandmethodsofourart。Andmyfriend，wiserthanI，ashehasalwaysbeen，repliedwiththisdoubtingphrase\"Couldwerecapturethezestofthatoldtime？\"
Iwouldnotliketobelievethatourfaithinthevalueofimaginativearthasdiminished，thatwethinkitlessworthwhiletostruggleforglimpsesoftruthandforthewordswhichmaypassthemontoothereyes;orthatwecannolongerdiscernthestarwetriedtofollow;butIdofear，withhim，thathalfalifetimeofendeavourhasdulledtheexuberancewhichkeptoneuptillmorningdiscussingthewaysandmeansofaestheticachievement。Wehavediscovered，perhapswithacertainfinality，thatbynotalkcanawriteraddacubittohisstature，orchangethetemperamentwhichmouldsandcoloursthevisionoflifehesetsbeforethefewwhowillpausetolookatit。Andso——therestissilence，andwhatofworkwemaystilldowillbedoneinthatdoggedmutenesswhichisthelotofadvancingyears。
Othertimes，othermenandmodes，butnotothertruth。Truth，thoughessentiallyrelative，likeEinstein’stheory，willneverloseitsever—newanduniquequality—perfectproportion;forTruth，tothehumanconsciousnessatleast，isbutthatvitallyjustrelationofparttowholewhichistheveryconditionoflifeitself。Andthetaskbeforetheimaginativewriter，whetherattheendofthelastcenturyoralltheseaeonslater，isthepresentationofavisionwhichtoeyeandearandmindhastheimplicitproportionsofTruth。
Iconfesstohavealwayslookedforacertainflavourinthewritingsofothers，andcraveditformyown，believingthatalltruevisionissocolouredbythetemperamentoftheseer，astohavenotonlythejustproportionsbuttheessentialnoveltyofalivingthingfor，afterall，notwolivingthingsarealike。AworkoffictionshouldcarrythehallmarkofitsauthorassurelyasaGoya，aDaumier，aVelasquez，andaMathewMaris，shouldbetheunmistakablecreationsofthosemasters。Thisisnottospeakoftricksandmannerswhichlendthemselvestothatfacileelf，thecaricaturist，butofacertainindividualwayofseeingandfeeling。Ayoungpoetoncesaidofanotherandmorepopularpoet:\"Oh！yes，butbecutsnoice。
\"And，whenonecametothinkofit，hedidnot;acertainflabbinessofspirit，alackoftemperament，anabsence，perhaps，oftheironic，orpassionate，view，insubstantiatedhiswork;ithadnoedge——justafelicitywhichpassedfordistinctionwiththecrowd。
Letmenotbeunderstoodtoimplythatanovelshouldbeasortofsandwich，inwhichtheauthor’smoodorphilosophyisthesliceofham。One’sdemandisforafarmoresubtleimpregnationofflavour;
justthat，forinstance，whichmakesDeMaupassantamorepoignantandfascinatingwriterthanhismasterFlaubert，DickensandThackeraymorelivingandpermanentthanGeorgeEliotorTrollope。
Itoncefelltomylottobethepreliminarycriticofabookonpainting，designedtoprovethattheartist’ssolefunctionwastheimpersonalelucidationofthetruthsofnature。IwasregretfullycompelledtoobservethattherewerenosuchthingsasthetruthsofNature，forthepurposesofart，apartfromtheindividualvisionoftheartist。Seerandthingseen，inextricablyinvolvedonewiththeother，formthetextureofanymasterpiece;andI，atleast，demandtherefromadistinctimpressionoftemperament。Ineversaw，intheflesh，eitherDeMaupassantorTchekov——thosemastersofsuchdifferentmethodsentirelydevoidofdidacticism——buttheirworkleavesonmeastrangelypotentsenseofpersonality。Suchsubtleinterminglingofseerwiththingseenistheoutcomeonlyoflongandintricatebrooding，aprocessnottoofavouredbymodernlife，yetwithoutwhichweachievelittlebutafluentchaosofcleverinsignificantimpressions，akindofglorifiedjournalism，holdingmuchthesamerelationtothedeeply—impregnatedworkofTurgenev，Hardy，andConrad，asafilmbearstoaplay。
Speakingformyself，withtheimmodestyrequiredofonewhohazardsanintroductiontohisownwork，IwaswritingfictionforfiveyearsbeforeIcouldmasterevenitsprimarytechnique，muchlessachievethatunionofseerwiththingseen，whichperhapsbeginstoshowitselfalittleinthisvolume——bindingupthescantyharvestsof1899，1900，and1901——especiallyinthetales:\"AKnight，\"and\"SalvationofaForsyte。\"Men，women，trees，andworksoffiction——
verytinyaretheseedsfromwhichtheyspring。Iusedreallytoseethe\"Knight\"——in1896，wasit？——sittinginthe\"Place\"infrontoftheCasinoatMonteCarlo;andbecausehisdried—upelegance，hisburntstrawhat，quietcourtesyofattitude，andbigdog，usedtofascinateandintrigueme，Ibegantoimaginehislifesoastoanswermyownquestionsandtosatisfy，Isuppose，themoodIwasin。
Ineverspoketohim，Ineversawhimagain。Hisrealstory，nodoubt，wasasdifferentfromthatwhichIwovearoundhisfigureasnightfromday。
AsforSwithin，wildhorseswillnotdragfrommeconfessionofwhereandwhenIfirstsawtheprototypewhichbecameenlargedtohisbulkystature。IoweSwithinmuch，forhefirstreleasedthesatiristinme，andis，moreover，theonlyoneofmycharacterswhomIkilledbeforeIgavehimlife，foritisin\"TheManofProperty\"thatSwithinForsytemorememorablylives。
Rangingbeyondthisvolume，Icannotrecollectwritingthefirstwordsof\"TheIslandPharisees\"——butitwouldbeaboutAugust，1901。
Likeallthestoriesin\"VillaRubein，\"and，indeed，mostofmytales，thebookoriginatedinthecuriosity，philosophicreflections，andunphilosophicemotionsrousedinmebysomesinglefigureinreallife。InthiscaseitwasFerrand，whoserealname，ofcourse，wasnotFerrand，andwhodiedinsome\"sacredinstitution\"manyyearsagoofaconsumptionbroughtonbytheconditionsofhiswanderinglife。
Ifnot\"abeloved，\"hewasatruevagabond，andIfirstmethimintheChampsElysees，justasin\"ThePigeon\"hedescribeshismeetingwithWellwyn。Thoughdrawnverymuchfromlife，hedidnotintheendturnoutveryliketheFerrandofreallife——the，figuresoffictionsoondivergefromtheirprototypes。
Thefirstdraftof\"TheIslandPharisees\"wasburiedinadrawer;
whenretrievedtheotherday，afternineteenyears，itdisclosedapicaresquestringofanecdotestoldbyFerrandinthefirstperson。
Thesetwo—thirdsofabookwerelaidtorestbyEdwardGarnett’sdictumthatitsauthorwasnotsufficientlywithinFerrand’sskin;
and，strugglingheavilywithlazinessandpride，hestartedafreshintheskinofShelton。Threetimesbewrotethatnovel，andthenitwaslonginfindingtheeyeofSydneyPawling，whoaccepteditforHeinemann’sin1904。Thatwasaperiodoffermentandtransitionwithme，akindoflongawakeningtothehometruthsofsocialexistenceandnationalcharacter。Theliquorbubbledtoofuriouslyforclearbottling。Andthebook，afterall，becamebutanintroductiontoallthosefollowingnovelswhichdepict——somewhatsatirically——thevarioussectionsofEnglish\"Society\"withamoreorlesscapital\"S。\"
Lookingbackonthelong—stretched—outbodyofone’swork，itisinterestingtomarktheendlessduelfoughtwithinamanbetweentheemotionalandcriticalsidesofhisnature，firstone，thentheother，gettingtheupperhand，andtooseldomfusingtilltheresulthasthemellownessoffullachievement。Onecaneventellthenatureofone’sreaders，bytheirpreferencefortheworkwhichrevealsmoreofthissidethanofthat。Myearlyworkwascertainlymoreemotionalthancritical。Butfrom1901camenineyearswhenthecriticalwas，inthemain，holdingsway。From1910to1918theemotionalagainstruggledfortheupperhand;andfromthattimeonthereseemstohavebeensomethingofa\"deadbeat。\"Sotheconflictgoes，bywhatmysterioustidespromoted，Iknownot。
AnauthormusteverwishtodiscoverahaplessmemberofthePublicwho，neveryethavingreadawordofhiswriting，wouldsubmittotheordealofreadinghimrightthroughfrombeginningtoend。Probablytheeffectcouldonlybejudgedthroughanautopsy，butintheremotecaseofsurvival，itwouldinterestonesoprofoundlytoseethedifferences，ifany，producedinthatreader’scharacteroroutlookoverlife。This，however，isaconsummationwhichwillremaindevoutlytobewished，forthereisalimittohumancomplaisance。
Onewillneverknowtheexactmeasureofone’sinfectingpower;orwhether，indeed，oneisnotjustalongsoporific。
Awritertheysay，shouldnotfavouritizeamonghiscreations;butthenawritershouldnotdosomanythingsthatbedoes。Thiswriter，certainly，confessestohavingfavourites，andofhisnovelssofarbelikesbest:TheForsyteSeries;\"TheCountryHouse\";
\"Fraternity\";\"TheDarkFlower\";and\"FiveTales\";believingthesetobetheworkswhichmostfullyachievefusionofseerwiththingseen，mostsubtlydisclosetheindividualityoftheirauthor，andbestrevealsuchoftruthashasbeenvouchsafedtohim。
JOHNGALSWORTHY。
TO
MYSISTER
BLANCHELILIANSAUTER
VILLARUBEIN
I
WalkingalongtheriverwallatBotzen，EdmundDawneysaidtoAloisHarz:\"Wouldyoucaretoknowthefamilyatthatpinkhouse，VillaRubein？\"
Harzansweredwithasmile:
\"Perhaps。\"
\"Comewithmethenthisafternoon。\"
Theyhadstoppedbeforeanoldhousewithablind，desertedlook，thatstoodbyitselfonthewall;Harzpushedthedooropen。
\"Comein，youdon’twantbreakfastyet。I’mgoingtopainttheriverto—day。\"
Heranupthebarebroadstairs，andDawneyfollowedleisurely，histhumbshookedinthearmholesofhiswaistcoat，andhisheadthrownback。
Intheatticwhichfilledthewholetopstory，Harzhadpulledacanvastothewindow。Hewasayoungmanofmiddleheight，squareshouldered，active，withanangularface，highcheek—bones，andastrong，sharpchin。Hiseyeswerepiercingandsteel—blue，hiseyebrowsveryflexible，noselongandthinwithahighbridge;andhisdark，unpartedhairfittedhimlikeacap。Hisclotheslookedasifhenevergavethemasecondthought。
Thisroom，whichservedforstudio，bedroom，andsitting—room，wasbareanddusty。Belowthewindowtheriverinspringfloodrusheddownthevalley，astream，ofmoltenbronze。Harzdodgedbeforethecanvaslikeafencerfindinghisdistance;Dawneytookhisseatonapackingcase。
\"Thesnowshavegonewitharushthisyear，\"hedrawled。\"TheTalfercomesdownbrown，theEisackcomesdownblue;theyflowintotheEtschandmakeitgreen;aparableoftheSpringforyou，mypainter。\"
Harzmixedhiscolours。
\"I’venotimeforparables，\"hesaid，\"notimeforanything。IfI
couldbeguaranteedtolivetoninety—nine，likeTitian——hehadachance。Lookatthatpoorfellowwhowaskilledtheotherday！Allthatstruggle，andthen——justattheturn！\"
HespokeEnglishwithaforeignaccent;hisvoicewasratherharsh，buthissmileverykindly。
Dawneylitacigarette。
\"Youpainters，\"hesaid，\"arebetteroffthanmostofus。Youcanstrikeoutyourownline。NowifIchoosetotreatacaseoutoftheordinarywayandthepatientdies，I’mruined。\"
\"MydearDoctor——ifIdon’tpaintwhatthepubliclikes，Istarve;
allthesameI’mgoingtopaintinmyownway;intheendIshallcomeoutontop。\"
\"Itpaystoworkinthegroove，myfriend，untilyou’vemadeyourname;afterthat——dowhatyoulike，they’lllickyourbootsallthesame。\"
\"Ah，youdon’tloveyourwork。\"
Dawneyansweredslowly:\"Neversohappyaswhenmyhandsarefull。
ButIwanttomakemoney，togetknown，tohaveagoodtime，goodcigars，goodwine。Ihatediscomfort。No，myboy，Imustworkitontheusuallines;Idon’tlikeit，butImustlumpit。Onestartsinlifewithsomenotionoftheideal——it’sgonebytheboardwithme。
I’vegottoshovealonguntilI’vemademyname，andthen，mylittleman——then——\"
\"Thenyou’llbesoft！\"Youpaydearlyforthatfirstperiod！\"
\"Takemychanceofthat;there’snootherway。\"
\"Makeone！\"
\"Humph！\"
Harzpoisedhisbrush，asthoughitwereaspear:
\"Amanmustdothebestinhim。Ifhehastosuffer——lethim！\"
Dawneystretchedhislargesoftbody;acalculatinglookhadcomeintohiseyes。
\"You’reatoughlittleman！\"hesaid。
\"I’vehadtobetough。\"
Dawneyrose;tobaccosmokewaswreathedroundhisunruffledhair。
\"TouchingVillaRubein，\"hesaid，\"shallIcallforyou？It’samixedhousehold，Englishmostly——verydecentpeople。\"
\"No，thankyou。Ishallbepaintingallday。Haven’ttimetoknowthesortofpeoplewhoexpectonetochangeone’sclothes。\"
\"Asyoulike;ta—to！\"And，puffingouthischest，Dawneyvanishedthroughablanketloopedacrossthedoorway。
Harzsetapotofcoffeeonaspirit—lamp，andcuthimselfsomebread。Throughthewindowthefreshnessofthemorningcame;thescentofsapandblossomandyoungleaves;thescentofearth，andthemountainsfreedfromwinter;thenewflightsandsongsofbirds;
alltheodorous，enchanted，restlessSpring。
Theresuddenlyappearedthroughthedoorwayawhiterough—hairedterrierdog，black—markedabouttheface，withshaggytaneyebrows。
HesniffedatHarz，showedthewhitesroundhiseyes，andutteredasharpbark。Ayoungvoicecalled:
\"Scruff！Thounaughtydog！\"Lightfootstepswereheardonthestairs;fromthedistanceathin，highvoicecalled:
\"Greta！Youmustn’tgoupthere！\"
Alittlegirloftwelve，withlongfairhairunderawide—brimmedhat，slippedin。
Herblueeyesopenedwide，herfaceflushedup。Thatfacewasnotregular;itscheek—boneswereratherprominent，thenosewasflattish;therewasaboutitanair，innocent，reflecting，quizzical，shy。
\"Oh！\"shesaid。
Harzsmiled:\"Good—morning！Thisyourdog？\"
Shedidnotanswer，butlookedathimwithsoftbewilderment;thenrunningtothedogseizedhimbythecollar。
\"Scr—ruff！Thounaughtydog—thebaddestdog！\"Theendsofherhairfellabouthim;shelookedupatHarz，whosaid:
\"Notatall！Letmegivehimsomebread。\"
\"Ohno！Youmustnot——Iwillbeathim——andtellhimheisbad;thenheshallnotdosuchthingsagain。Nowheissulky;helookssoalwayswhenheissulky。Isthisyourhome？\"
\"Forthepresent;Iamavisitor。\"
\"ButIthinkyouareofthiscountry，becauseyouspeaklikeit。\"
\"Certainly，IamaTyroler。\"
\"IhavetotalkEnglishthismorning，butIdonotlikeitverymuch—
—because，alsoIamhalfAustrian，andIlikeitbest;butmysister，Christian，isallEnglish。HereisMissNaylor;sheshallbeveryangrywithme。\"
Andpointingtotheentrancewitharosy—tippedforefinger，sheagainlookedruefullyatHarz。
Therecameintotheroomwithawalklikethehoppingofabirdanelderly，smalllady，inagreysergedress，withnarrowbandsofclaret—colouredvelveteen;alargegoldcrossdangledfromasteelchainonherchest;shenervouslytwistedherhands，cladinblackkidgloves，ratherwhiteabouttheseams。
Herhairwasprematurelygrey;herquickeyesbrown;hermouthtwistedatonecorner;sheheldherface，kind—looking，butlongandnarrow，rathertooneside，andworeonitalookofapology。Herquicksentencessoundedasifshekeptthemonstrings，andwantedtodrawthembackassoonasshehadletthemforth。
\"Greta，howcan，youdosuchthings？Idon’tknowwhatyourfatherwouldsay！IamsureIdon’tknowhowto——soextraordinary——\"
\"Please！\"saidHarz。
\"Youmustcomeatonce——soverysorry——soawkward！\"Theywerestandinginaring:Harzwithhiseyebrowsworkingupanddown;thelittleladyfidgetingherparasol;Greta，flushedandpouting，hereyesalldewy，twistinganendoffairhairroundherfinger。
\"Oh，look！\"Thecoffeehadboiledover。Littlebrownstreamstrickledsplutteringfromthepan;thedog，withearslaidbackandtailtuckedin，wentscurryingroundtheroom。Afeelingoffellowshipfellonthematonce。
\"Alongthewallisourfavouritewalk，andScruff——soawkward，sounfortunate——wedidnotthinkanyonelivedhere——theshuttersarecracked，thepaintispeelingoffsodreadfully。HaveyoubeenlonginBotzen？Twomonths？Fancy！YouarenotEnglish？YouareTyrolese？ButyouspeakEnglishsowell——thereforsevenyears？
Really？Sofortunate！——ItisGreta’sdayforEnglish。\"
MissNaylor’seyesdartedbewilderedglancesattheroofwherethecrossingofthebeamsmadesuchdeepshadows;atthelitterofbrushes，tools，knives，andcoloursonatablemadeoutofpacking—
cases;atthebigwindow，innocentofglass，andflushwiththefloor，whencedangledabitofrustychain——relicofthetimewhentheplacehadbeenastore—loft;hereyeswerehastilyavertedfromanunfnishedfigureofthenude。
Greta，withfeetcrossed，satonacolouredblanket，dabblingherfngerinalittlepoolofcoffee，andgazingupatHarz。Andhethought:’Ishouldliketopaintherlikethat。\"Aforget—me—not。\"’
Hetookouthischalkstomakeasketchofher。
\"Shallyoushowme？\"criedoutGreta，scramblingtoherfeet。
\"’Will，’Greta——’will’;howoftenmustItellyou？Ithinkweshouldbegoing——itisverylate——yourfather——soverykindofyou，butI
thinkweshouldbegoing。Scruff！\"MissNaylorgavethefloortwotaps。Theterrierbackedintoaplastercastwhichcamedownonhistail，andsenthimflyingthroughthedoorway。Gretafollowedswiftly，crying:
\"Ach！poorScrufee！\"
MissNaylorcrossedtheroom;bowing，shemurmuredanapology，andalsodisappeared。
Harzwasleftalone，hisguestsweregone;thelittlegirlwiththefairhairandtheeyeslikeforget—me—nots，thelittleladywithkindlygesturesandbird—likewalk，theterrier。Helookedroundhim;theroomseemedveryempty。Gnawinghismoustache，hemutteredatthefallencast。
Thentakinguphisbrush，stoodbeforehispicture，smilingandfrowning。Soonhehadforgottenitallinhiswork。
II
Itwasearlymorningfourdayslater，andHarzwasloiteringhomewards。Theshadowsofthecloudspassingacrossthevineswerevanishingoverthejumbledroofsandgreen—toppedspiresofthetown。
Astrongsweetwindwasblowingfromthemountains，therewasastirinthebranchesofthetrees，andflakesofthelateblossomweredriftingdown。Amongstthesoftgreenpodsofakindofpoplarchafersbuzzed，andnumbersoftheirlittlebrownbodieswerestrewnonthepath。
Hepassedabenchwhereagirlsatsketching。Apuffofwindwhirledherdrawingtotheground;Harzrantopickitup。Shetookitfromhimwithabow;but，asheturnedaway，shetorethesketchacross。
\"Ah！\"hesaid;\"whydidyoudothat？\"
Thisgirl，whostoodwithabitofthetornsketchineitherhand，wasslightandstraight;andherfaceearnestandserene。ShegazedatHarzwithlarge，clear，greenisheyes;herlipsandchinweredefiant，herforeheadtranquil。
\"Idon’tlikeit。\"
\"Willyouletmelookatit？Iamapainter。\"
\"Itisn’tworthlookingat，but——ifyouwish——\"
Heputthetwohalvesofthesketchtogether。
\"Yousee！\"shesaidatlast;\"Itoldyou。\"
Harzdidnotanswer，stilllookingatthesketch。Thegirlfrowned。
Harzaskedhersuddenly:
\"Whydoyoupaint？\"
Shecoloured，andsaid:
\"Showmewhatiswrong。\"
\"Icannotshowyouwhatiswrong，thereisnothingwrong——butwhydoyoupaint？\"
\"Idon’tunderstand。\"
Harzshruggedhisshoulders。
\"You’venobusinesstodothat，\"saidthegirlinahurtvoice;\"I
wanttoknow。\"
\"Yourheartisnotinit，\"saidHarz。
Shelookedathim，startled;hereyeshadgrownthoughtful。
\"Isupposethatisit。Therearesomanyotherthings——\"
\"Thereshouldbenothingelse，\"saidHarz。
Shebrokein:\"Idon’twantalwaystobethinkingofmyself。
Suppose——\"
\"Ah！Whenyoubeginsupposing！\"
Thegirlconfrontedhim;shehadtornthesketchagain。
\"Youmeanthatifitdoesnotmatterenough，onehadbetternotdoitatall。Idon’tknowifyouareright——Ithinkyouare。\"
Therewasthesoundofanervouscough，andHarzsawbehindhimhisthreevisitors——MissNaylorofferinghimherhand;Greta，flushed，withabunchofwildflowers，staringintentlyinhisface;andtheterrier，sniffingathistrousers。
MissNaylorbrokeanawkwardsilence。
\"Wewonderedifyouwouldstillbehere，Christian。Iamsorrytointerruptyou——IwasnotawarethatyouknewMr。Herr——\"
\"Harzismyname——wewerejusttalking\"
\"Aboutmysketch。Oh，Greta，youdotickle！Willyoucomeandhavebreakfastwithusto—day，HerrHarz？It’sourturn，youknow。\"
Harz，glancingathisdustyclothes，excusedhimself。
ButGretainapleadingvoicesaid:\"Oh！docome！Scrufflikesyou。
Itissodullwhenthereisnobodyforbreakfastbutourselves。\"
MissNaylor’smouthbegantotwist。Harzhurriedlybrokein:
\"Thankyou。Iwillcomewithpleasure;youdon’tmindmybeingdirty？\"
\"Ohno！wedonotmind;thenweshallnoneofuswash，andafterwardsIshallshowyoumyrabbits。\"
MissNaylor，movingfromfoottofoot，likeabirdonitsperch，exclaimed:
\"Ihopeyouwon’tregretit，notaverygoodmeal——thegirlsaresoimpulsive——suchinformalinvitation;weshallbeveryglad。\"
ButGretapulledsoftlyathersister’ssleeve，andChristian，gatheringherthings，ledtheway。
Harzfollowedinamazement;nothingofthiskindhadcomeintohislifebefore。Hekeptshylyglancingatthegirls;and，notingthespeculativeinnocenceinGreta’seyes，hesmiled。Theysooncametotwogreatpoplar—trees，whichstood，likesentinels，oneoneithersideofanunweededgravelwalkleadingthroughlilacbushestoahousepainteddullpink，withgreen—shutteredwindows，andaroofofgreenishslate。Overthedoorinfadedcrimsonletterswerewrittenthewords，\"VillaRubein。\"
\"Thatistothestables，\"saidGreta，pointingdownapath，wheresomepigeonsweresunningthemselvesonawall。\"UncleNickeepshishorsesthere:CountessandCuckoo——hishorsesbeginwithC，becauseofChris——theyarequitebeautiful。HesayshecoulddrivethemtoKingdom—Comeandtheywouldnotturntheirhair。Bow，andsay’Good—
morning’toourhouse！\"
Harzbowed。
\"Fathersaidallstrangersshould，andIthinkitbringsgoodluck。\"
>FromthedoorstepshelookedroundatHarz，thenranintothehouse。
Abroad，thick—setman，withstiff，brushed—uphair，ashort，brown，bushybeardpartedatthechin，afreshcomplexion，andblueglassesacrossathicknose，cameout，andcalledinabluffvoice:
\"Ha！mygooddears，kissmequick——prrt！Howgoesitthenthismorning？Agoodwalk，hein？\"Thesoundofmanyloudrapidkissesfollowed。
\"Ha，Fraulein，good！\"HebecameawareofHarz’sfigurestandinginthedoorway:\"UndderHerr？\"
MissNaylorhurriedlyexplained。
\"Good！Anartist！KommenSieherein，Iamdelight。Youwillbreakfast？Itoo——yes，yes，mydears——Itoobreakfastwithyouthismorning。Ihavethehunter’sappetite。\"
Harz，lookingathimkeenly，perceivedhimtobeofmiddleheightandage，stout，dressedinaloosehollandjacket，averywhite，starchedshirt，andbluesilksash;thathelookedparticularlyclean，hadanairofbelongingtoSociety，andexhaledareallyfinearomaofexcellentcigarsandthebesthairdresser’sessences。
Theroomtheyenteredwaslongandratherbare;therewasahugemaponthewall，andbelowitapairofglobesoncrookedsupports，resemblingtwoinflatedfrogserectontheirhindlegs。Inonecornerwasacottagepiano，closetoawriting—tableheapedwithbooksandpapers;thisnook，sacredtoChristian，wasforeigntotherestoftheroom，whichwasarrangedwithsupernaturalneatness。A
tablewaslaidforbreakfast，andthesun—warmedaircameinthroughFrenchwindows。
Themealwentmerrily;HerrPaulvonMorawitzwasneverinsuchspiritsasattable。Wordsstreamedfromhim。ConversingwithHarz，hetalkedofArtaswhoshouldsay:\"Onedoesnotclaimtobeaconnoisseur——passibete——still，onehasalittleknowledge，quediable！\"Herecommendedhimamaninthetownwhosoldcigarsthatwere\"notsoverybad。\"Heconsumedporridge，ateanomelette;andbendingacrosstoGretagaveherasoundingkiss，muttering:\"Kissmequick！\"——anexpressionhehadpickedupinaLondonmusic—hall，longago，andconsideredchic。Heaskedhisdaughters’plans，andheldoutporridgetotheterrier，whorefuseditwithasniff。
\"Well，\"hesaidsuddenly，lookingatMissNaylor，\"hereisagentlemanwhohasnotevenheardournames！\"