Heavy books of minute investigation were
every month being published by the dozens in the Fatherland. There was
not a professor who could resist the temptation of constructing from the
simplest detail an enormous volume written in a dull, involved style.
The people, therefore, appreciating that these near-sighted authors were
incapable of any genial vision of comradeship, called them Sitzfleisch
haben, because of the very long sittings which their works represented.
That was what this cousin was for him, a mere Sitzfleisch haben.
Doctor von Hartrott, on explaining his visit, spoke in Spanish.
He availed himself of this language used by the family during his
childhood, as a precaution, looking around repeatedly as if he feared
to be heard. He had come to bid his cousin farewell. His mother had told
him of his return, and he had not wished to leave Paris without seeing
him. He was leaving in a few hours, since matters were growing more
strained.
"But do you really believe that there will be war?" asked Desnoyers.
"War will be declared to-morrow or the day after. Nothing can prevent it
now. It is necessary for the welfare of humanity."
Silence followed this speech, Julio and Argensola looking with
astonishment at this peaceable-looking man who had just spoken with such
martial arrogance. The two suspected that the professor was making this
visit in order to give vent to his opinions and enthusiasms.
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