CHAPTER VI.
AN IDYLL.
The feverish pulse of a city is not felt in the same degree in all parts of it.

There are places from which all circulation seems shut out, and where the rapid stream of life hardly shows a ripple.

Quiet houses are there, only separated from the noisy street by the thickness of a wall.

They seem to be many miles from the heated movement of life, and their inhabitants complacently gaze from their windows with the same unconcern as they would look at a picture on their own walls--a view perhaps of violence or excitement, a storm at sea, or a battle.
The Markers' house in the Lutzowstrasse was just such a peaceful island in the tossing sea of the city.

It was only a few steps from the Magdeburger Platz--the first story in a stately house with a round arch over the door.