BUDDENBROOKS
Just go on, Thomas. Presents are to be returned? That is only right.”
And Thomas went on. He began with the large things, and wrote down for himself the articles he could use in his own house: the candelabra in the dining-room, the great carved chest that stood in the downstairs entry. Frau Permaneder paid extraordinarily close attention. No matter what the article was, the future possession of which was at the moment in question, she would say with an incomparable air, “Oh, well, I’m willing to take it”—as if the whole world owed her thanks for her act of self-sacrifice. She accepted for herself, her daughter, and her granddaughter far and away the largest share of the furnishings.
Christian had some pieces of furniture, an Empire table-clock and the harmonium. He seemed satisfied enough. But when they came to dividing the table-linen and silver and the sets of dishes, he displayed, to the great astonishment of the others, an eagerness that was almost avidity.
“What about me?” he would say. “I must ask you not to forget me, please.”
“Who is forgetting you? Look: I’ve put a whole tea-service and a silver tray down to you. I’ve taken the gilt Sunday service, as we are probably the only ones who would have a use for it.”
“I’m willing to take the every-day onion pattern,” said Frau Permaneder.
“And what about me?” cried Christian. He was possessed now by that excitement which sometimes seized him and sat so extraordinarily on his haggard cheek. “I certainly want a share in the dishes. And how many forks and spoons do I get? Almost none at all, it seems to me.”
“But, my dear man, what do you want of them? You have no use for them at all. I don’t understand. It is better the things should continue in the family—”
“But suppose I say I want them—if only in remembrance of Mother,” Christian cried defiantly.
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