He had not finished dressing, when a waiter announced the arrival of
two gentlemen. One of them turned out to be Emil; the other, a
good-looking and well-grown young man, with a handsome face, was Herr
Karl Klüber, the betrothed of the lovely Gemma.
One may safely assume that at that time in all Frankfort, there was not
in a single shop a manager as civil, as decorous, as dignified, and as
affable as Herr Klüber. The irreproachable perfection of his get-up was
on a level with the dignity of his deportment, with the elegance—a
little affected and stiff, it is true, in the English style (he had
spent two years in England)—but still fascinating, elegance of his
manners! It was clear from the first glance that this handsome, rather
severe, excellently brought-up and superbly washed young man was
accustomed to obey his superior and to command his inferior, and that
behind the counter of his shop he must infallibly inspire respect even
in his customers! Of his supernatural honesty there could never be a
particle of doubt: one had but to look at his stiffly starched collars!
And his voice, it appeared, was just what one would expect; deep, and
of a self-confident richness, but not too loud, with positively a
certain caressing note in its timbre. Such a voice was peculiarly
fitted to give orders to assistants under his control: “Show the
crimson Lyons velvet!” or, “Hand the lady a chair!”
Herr Klüber began with introducing himself; as he did so, he bowed with
such loftiness, moved his legs with such an agreeable air, and drew his
heels together with such polished courtesy that no one could fail to
feel, “that man has both linen and moral principles of the first
quality!” The finish of his bare right hand—(the left, in a suède
glove, held a hat shining like a looking-glass, with the right glove
placed within it)—the finish of the right hand, proffered modestly but
resolutely to Sanin, surpassed all belief; each finger-nail was a
perfection in its own way! Then he proceeded to explain in the choicest
German that he was anxious to express his respect and his indebtedness
to the foreign gentleman who had performed so signal a service to his
future kinsman, the brother of his betrothed; as he spoke, he waved his
left hand with the hat in it in the direction of Emil, who seemed
bashful and turning away to the window, put his finger in his mouth.
Herr Klüber added that he should esteem himself happy should he be able
in return to do anything for the foreign gentleman. Sanin, with some
difficulty, replied, also in German, that he was delighted … that the
service was not worth speaking of … and he begged his guests to sit
down. Herr Klüber thanked him, and lifting his coat-tails, sat down on
a chair; but he perched there so lightly and with such a transitory air
that no one could fail to realise, “this man is sitting down from
politeness, and will fly up again in an instant.” And he did in fact
fly up again quickly, and advancing with two discreet little
dance-steps, he announced that to his regret he was unable to stay any
longer, as he had to hasten to his shop—business before everything! but
as the next day was Sunday, he had, with the consent of Frau Lenore and
Fräulein Gemma, arranged a holiday excursion to Soden, to which he had
the honour of inviting the foreign gentleman, and he cherished the hope
that he would not refuse to grace the party with his presence. Sanin
did not refuse so to grace it; and Herr Klüber repeating once more his
complimentary sentiments, took leave, his pea-green trousers making a
spot of cheerful colour, and his brand-new boots squeaking cheerfully
as he moved.