carriage busily absorbed in one another, while the box seat was occupied by a footman hired for the occasion.
Then came the wedding day; for they were both in a hurry, Guste because of the people, Diederich for political reasons. In prder to make a bigger splash it had been arranged that Magda and Kienast should be married on the same day. Kienast had arrived and Diederich kept looking at him uneasily, for he had shaved his beard, turned up the points of his moustache and already learnt to flash his eyes. In the negotiations over Magda's share in the business he displayed a truly terrifying commercial sense. Not without anxiety for the ultimate issue of the whole thing, though determined to fulfil his duty to himself without flinching, Diederich was now more constantly absorbed in his account books. … Even on his wedding morning he was sitting in his office, in full dress, when a visiting card was presented: Karnauke, First Lieutenant, Retired. "What on earth does he want, Sötbier?" The old book keeper did not know either. "Well, it doesn't matter. I can't refuse to see an officer," and Diederich went himself to the door.
In the doorway, however, he met a gentleman who held him self unusually stiffly, in a green summer overcoat, which was dripping and was buttoned tightly around his neck. A pool of water formed at once underneath his patent leather shoes, and the rain fell from his green Tyrolese hat, which he had not removed, strange to say. "First let us get dried a bit," said the gentleman, moving towards the stove, before Diederich could speak. "For sale, what? Queer street, what?" At first Diederich did not grasp his meaning; then he glanced uneasily at Sötbier. The old fellow had resumed his letter. "You must have made a mistake in the number of the house," said Diederich in a conciliatory tone, but it was no use.
"Bosh, I know exactly. No nonsense. Superior orders. Sell and keep your mouth shut, or God help you."
This speech was too obvious. Diederich could no longer
