"Very possibly he has forgotten all about it, and is amusing himself at some club or other," was Jordan's commentary on the fact.
"In that case," said Anton, "I shall at once write to him, and have the letter laid on his table." Meanwhile great conferences were held in Jordan's room; for, although Pix and Specht had promised secrecy, they indulged in such dark and mysterious hints that the truth was soon known.

Baumann stole up to Anton to implore him not to peril two human lives for the sake of a rough word; and, when he was gone, Anton found a New Testament on his table, open at the words, "Bless them that curse you." Although not exactly in the mood to enter into their spirit, he took up the sacred book, and, having read the passages his good mother so often repeated to him, he prepared for bed in a softened frame of mind.
Meanwhile, a rumor of some impending catastrophe pervaded the whole house.
Sabine was in her treasure-chamber.

Along its walls stood great oaken presses, richly carved; in the middle, a table with twisted legs, and a few old-fashioned chairs around.

On the shelves of the presses appeared piles of linen, and rows of glass, china, and plate, collected by the taste of more than three generations.

The air was fragrant with old lavender and recent eau de Cologne.