"I shall be very
glad to see you in the Adlergasse at half after ten. It is one flight
up, next door to the Black Eagle. Any one will show you the way. I
haven't breakfasted yet, and I can not transact any business in these
dusty clothes. Good morning."
Grumbach liked the consul's smile. More than that, he recognized
instantly that this handsome young man was a gentleman. The inherent
respect for caste had not been beaten out of Grumbach's blood; he had
come from a brood in a peasant's hovel. To him the word gentleman would
always signify birth and good clothes; what the heart and mind were did
not matter much.
He had more than an hour to idle away, so he wandered through the park,
admiring the freshness of the green, the well-kept flower-beds, the
crisp hedges, and the clean graveled paths. There was nothing like it
back there in America. They hadn't the time there; everybody was in the
market, speculating in bubbles. He admired the snowy fountains, too, and
the doves that darted in and out of the wind-blown spray. There was
nothing like this in America, either. He was not belittling; he was only
making comparisons. He knew that he would be far happier in his adopted
country, which would accomplish all these beautiful things farther on.
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