Schrotter drank nothing but
water, and he knew that Wilhelm's taste was similar. Bhani, as the
Indian housekeeper was called, stood close behind her master's
chair, never taking her eyes off him. The dishes were brought in by
the white-bearded servant, and handed with a deep reverence to
Bhani. She placed the dishes before Schrotter, changing them for a
fresh course, and poured water into his glass. It was a silent,
attentive service, almost giving the impression of adoration. Bhani
appeared not to be waiting on a mortal master, but taking part in a
sacrifice in a temple, so much devotion was expressed in her noble,
warmly-colored face.
A dish of curry spread its oriental scent through the room, and
Schrotter continued:
"Tell me, dear Eynhardt, in what way you mean to accomplish your
fakir's contempt of the world?"
"Pardon me," interrupted Wilhelm, "the expression does not strike me
as quite fair. I don't despise the world, I consider it merely as a
phenomenon, valueless to my way of thinking, and in which I fail to
find any real actuality."
"I understand quite well; we are not debating on a platform, but
chatting over our lunch. I am not troubling either to talk in the
correct jargon of school philosophy, and therefore I am at liberty
to call your longings after the essence of things, contempt of the
world.
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