They were silent for some way; but the silence spoke of Naphta, and Hans Castorp could wait. He felt sure Herr Settembrini would mention his housemate, had come out with them for that very purpose. He was not mistaken.

Drawing a long breath, as if to get a good start, the Italian began: “My friends, I should like to warn you.”

As he paused, after that, Hans Castorp asked, affecting surprise: “Against what?” He might as well have said against whom, but expressed himself impersonally to show how completely unconscious he was of Herr Settembrini’s meaning⁠—a meaning which even Joachim perfectly comprehended.

“Against the personage whose guest we have just been,” answered Settembrini, “and whose acquaintance I have unwillingly been the means of your making. Chance willed it, as you saw, I could not prevent it. But the responsibility is mine, and as such I feel it. It is my duty to point out to your tender years the intellectual perils of intercourse with this man, and to beg you to keep your acquaintance with him within safe limits. His form is logic, but his essence is confusion.”