On a dark and bitterly cold afternoon, old Stubbe, who had been agent in the Eynhardts' house for twenty years, entered Wilhelm's room.
"What is the news, Father Stubbe ?" cried Wilhelm, as he came in.
"No good news, Herr Doctor.

Wander the locksmith--you know the man who rents the second floor of the house in our court--has been turned out by the police.

It seems he's a very dangerous customer; I must say I have never noticed it.

He was always very decent; the children were a bother, certainly--always running about the court and getting between your feet.

Well, we all have our faults; and then, too, he didn't pay his rent in October." Wilhelm, who was well acquainted with Father Stubbe's flow of language, and did not greatly admire it, interrupted him at this point.
"Well, and what is the matter ?" "What's the matter, Herr Doctor?
Why, the wife is there now with the five children, and there's no earning anything, and yesterday she took away a cupboard to turn it into money somewhere--not that she can have got much for it, it was all tumbling to pieces.