BUDDENBROOKS
and more natural too. My lady sister is simply more temperamental,” he continued, suddenly taking a lighter tone. “Oh, Gerda has temperament too—her playing shows that; but she can sometimes be a little cold. In short, she is not to be measured by the ordinary standards. She is an artist, an individual, a puzzling, fascinating creature.”
“Yes, yes,” Tony said. She had given her brother the closest attention. It was nearly dark, and she had not thought of lighting the lamps.
The corridor door opened, and there stood before them in the twilight, in a pleated pique house-frock, white as snow, a slender figure. The heavy dark-red hair framed her white face, and blue shadows lay about her close-set brown eyes. It was Gerda, mother of future Buddenbrooks.
302
