Chapter 14 Of course, a woman!

He didn't know how long he slept.When the time is up, the gong sounds.Hans Castorp knew, however, that this time it was not the gong for dinner, but a notification to get ready, so he remained in bed until the second metallic clang sounded, and then gradually After leaving, he got up.When Joachim came into the room to look for him, Hans Castorp wanted to change, but Joachim would not allow it.He hates not keeping time.He said that if a person is so procrastinating about eating, what is the point of going forward, working hard, and dedicating himself to public service.Of course he was right; all Hans Castorp could say was that he was not really sick, but that he was lethargic.He just washed his hands hastily, and then the two of them went downstairs together and entered the dining room for the third time.

Diners rushed in through two doorways.They also poured in through the two open balcony doors on the other side.They were quickly seated at seven tables, as if they had never left.That was at least Hans Castorp's impression—an absurd and fantastical impression, of course.But Hans's drowsy mind couldn't get rid of this illusion all at once, and he was even secretly happy.During the meal, he tried several times to evoke this vision, and the effect was not bad.At this point the jolly old lady strikes up a conversation with Dr. Blumenkel, who sits opposite, and Blumenkel listens thoughtfully.Her shy niece was at last eating something other than kefir—that is, this time she was eating cream of barley soup, which the waitress brought out in a basin.But she only scooped up a few spoonfuls, and then put it aside.Pretty Marusa giggled and covered her mouth with her handkerchief, which smelled of oranges.Miss Robinson was still reading the round letters which she had read this morning.Apparently she didn't know a word of German and didn't want to.Joachim chatted courteously with her about the weather in English, and she answered in monosyllabic words, still munching her food as she spoke, and then fell silent again.As for Mrs Steele in the Scottish cardigan, she had another consultation this morning.She broke the news in a gruff, stilted voice, her upper lip pulled back to reveal her rabbit-like teeth as she spoke.She complained bitterly that she could still hear rales in the upper part of her right lung, and her breathing sound was still very short under the left shoulder blade. The old man said she would have to stay for five months.She rudely called Behrens, the consultant, "old man".Then she said indignantly that the "old man" hadn't dined with her today.At noon today, the "old man" was supposed to "turn" to her as usual (she pronounced the word "wheel" as "nong"), and ended up sitting at the next table on the left (the consultant Behrens was really sitting there) side, his large hands clasped in front of the plate).Of course, over there sat the fat lady Salomon of Amsterdam, who wore bare-chested and bare-shouldered clothes every day for meals, and the "old man" was obviously interested in this, although she, Mrs. Stahl, couldn't help it. Understandable, because every time he checks, he can look at Mrs. Salomon as much as he likes.After a while, she said in a whisper and excitedly, that the lights in the upper common bedroom (that is, the lounge on the roof) were extinguished last night, and the purpose was nothing more than to obtain "transparency" as Mrs. Steele said. "Effect. When the "old man" heard this, he flew into a rage that could be heard throughout the house.But who the perpetrator was, the result was naturally not found.You don't need a university education to guess that it was Miklo Sici from Bucharest; it was never too dark for him to mingle with women.Here is a man without the slightest breeding, though he wears a corset.His nature was like a beast... yes, a "beast," said Mrs. Stiles in a low voice, with sweat dripping from her brow and upper lip.His relationship with the wife of Viennese Consul General Wilmbrant was well known in the village and on the Highlands, and their relationship was hardly a secret.In the morning, when the wife of the Consul General was still lying in bed, the captain sometimes ran into her room and accompanied her throughout the grooming process.Last Thursday, he even stayed in the room until four o'clock in the morning.This was said by the female nurse of the young Franz in Room 19, who had recently failed to have an artificial pneumothorax.At this time she happened to bump into him, and in embarrassment, she went to the wrong door and broke into the room of Prosecutor Paravant in Dodmont... At last, Mrs. Steele babbled about his family. The "everything you want" opened down the hill, where she bought mouthwash.Joachim just stared down at his dish, his eyes down.

The lunch was not only well-cooked, but extremely rich.Including the pot of nutritious soup, there are no less than six dishes in total.After eating the fish, there was another pot of delicious roast meat with side dishes, followed by a pot of fancy vegetables, and then another pot of roast poultry and a serving of pudding, which tasted nothing like the dishes since last night. Lesser; cheese and fruit at the end.Every dish was served twice, and the waiters' energy was not wasted.The sight of people filling their bowls at the seven tables, and gobbling themselves under the vaulted ceiling of the dining-room, was a sight that was pleasing to the eye, but in some places it was not pleasing to the eye, even repulsive.Not only the merry and vivacious eat with their stomachs open, talk and laugh, and throw slices of bread here and there, but so do the silent and gloomy.They put their heads in their hands between each course and stared blankly.At the table on the left is a rudimentary boy, a student for his age; he wears short sleeves and thick round glasses.He cut up the mountain of food in the vegetable bowl into paste, and then buried himself in eating. He often pressed the napkin behind his glasses and wiped his eyes when eating.People didn't know what he was wiping, whether it was sweat or tears.

Two incidents occurred during lunch, which attracted Hans Castorp's attention.Based on the direction Hans was sitting in, that was all he could notice.First, the glass door slams shut again, just as everyone is eating fish.Hans Castorp shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, and then furiously made up his mind: this time he must find out who it was that knocked on the door.He didn't just think with his brain, but moved his lips seriously.I must find out! He said so softly and so passionately that both Miss Robinson and the governess looked at him in surprise.He turned his entire upper body to the left, and opened his bloodshot blue eyes wide.

Crossing the dining room was a woman, not so much a woman as a girl.She was of medium build, wearing a white sweater and floral skirt, and had reddish blond hair with two braids dangling from her head.Hans Castorp did not see her outline--hardly saw her.She walked quietly, in stark contrast to the noise of ping-pong-pong when she came in just now.With her head down, she tiptoed towards the outermost dining table on the left.This table was at right angles to the balcony door, and it was the table of the "good Russians."When walking, one hand is put in the pocket of the close-fitting woolen sweater, and the other hand is holding the head, and the hair is combed back.Hans Castorp looked at her hands; he had a good sense of people's hands; whenever he made a new acquaintance, his attention was always fixed on that person's hands first.She did not have the air of a lady, and the hand holding her hair was not so noble and delicate as the young Hans Castorp had often seen in his social intercourse with women.The back of her hand is broad, with short fingers, rough and childish, a bit like a schoolgirl's hand.Her nails were obviously not dyed, they were unsightly trimmed, like a schoolgirl, and the skin next to the nails was a little fluffy, as if left by the bad habit of biting nails.However, due to the distance, Hans Castorp could not see clearly, but only had such an impression.The latecomer nodded to his tablemates and took a seat beside Krokowski on the inside of the table, with his back to the dining room.Krokowski sat at the head.As soon as she sat down, she looked left and right, and glanced at everyone.While she was still resting her hand on her hair, Hans Castorp glanced at her and saw that her cheekbones were high and her eyes were narrow... At the same time, some vague memories came from his mind. As time passed, he seemed to remember something, who...

"Of course it's a woman!" thought Hans Castorp, and murmured it too, so that the governess, Miss Engelhalter, caught him.The poor spinster smiled knowingly. "This is Mrs. Chaucat," she said. "She's always sloppy, but this lady is very attractive." A shadow fell over Miss Engelhalter's red, downy cheeks now.Whenever she spoke, she always did. "Is she French?" Hans Castorp asked solemnly. "No, a Russian," said Miss Engelhardt. "Perhaps her husband is French or of French descent, I cannot say." Hans Castorp, still somewhat annoyed, asked if the gentleman sitting over there was her husband, pointing to a gentleman with drooping shoulders at the classy Russian table.

"No, her husband is not here," the governess answered him. "He's never been here at all, nobody here knows him." "She should know how to close doors properly!" said Hans Castorp. "She's always slamming the door shut. It's just plain bad manners." The governess smiled meekly at the reproach, as if she herself were the one to blame.In this way, they will no longer talk about Mrs. Chauchat. Another episode, Dr. Blumenkel's temporary absence from the restaurant, nothing else.His face, which was always gloomy, suddenly became serious at this moment, staring ahead worriedly, then pushed back the chair cautiously, and walked out.At this moment, Mrs. Steele's brutality was fully exposed.Perhaps flattered that she was less ill than Blumenkoll, she escorted him out of the restaurant in a tone of sympathy and sarcasm. "Poor thing!" she said. "He's almost on his last breath. He's talking to the 'blue guy' again." ’ This ridiculous word was on his lips, and Hans Castorp could not help it, and Hans Castorp felt both funny and shuddered when he heard her.A few minutes later, Dr. Blumenkel returned, still as humble as he had gone out, and sat down again to resume his meal.He ate a lot, and he ate two servings of each dish. He was still full of thoughts while eating, and didn't say a word.

So lunch was over.Thanks to the good service—the little lady carried the food with a brisk pace—lunch took only an hour.Hans Castorp was out of breath, not knowing how to get upstairs, and lay down again on the nice couch on his balcony, for after lunch one can stay in bed until tea time. .This is the most important time of the day and must be strictly observed.Opaque glass partitions separated Hans from Joachim on the one hand and the Russian couple on the other.He lay in the midst of these partitions, half asleep, with his heart pounding, breathing through his mouth.As he used the handkerchief, he noticed that it was stained red with blood, but he had no energy to think about it, although he did have some apprehensions about himself, and he was naturally suspicious, lest he should get sick.He lit another Maria Mancini, and this time he sucked it to the bottom, no matter how it tasted.He was dizzy and chest tight, and he was thinking in a trance: how absurd a series of things happened after he came to the mountain.Two or three times he couldn't help laughing out loud at the thought of how ignorantly that Mrs. Steele used some terrible words in her conversation.