"... secondly—(a movement of the ears plainly conveyed to Falk that he had not lost the thread), because—I am of opinion—that a spiritually minded man should not—be conspicuous—by his appearance—for this would be—spiritual pride—and a challenge—to the scoffers."
A book-keeper entered. The mask acknowledged his salutation by a wrinkling of his forehead, the only part of his face which was unoccupied.
For want of something else to do, Falk took the proofs and began to read them. The cigar continued talking:
"Everybody—wears—riding-boots. I won't—be conspicuous—by my—appearance. I wear—riding-boots—because—I'm no humbug."
He handed the manuscript to the boy and shouted—with his lips: "Four sticks—Seventh trumpet for Nyström!"—and then to Falk:
"I shall be disengaged in five minutes. Will you come with me to the warehouse?"
And to the book-keeper:
"Zululu is charging?"
"Brandy," answered the book-keeper in a rusty voice.
"Everything all right?"