“Thunder and lightning!” Hans Castorp said. “And I never even knew that such things existed any more! A Jesuit! Well, well! But do tell me⁠—if he is so well looked after by those people, why in the world does he live⁠—I don’t mean to say a word about your lodgings, Herr Settembrini, and you are certainly charmingly fixed, at Lukaçek’s, it is so retired and cosy there; but I mean, if Naphta really has such a pile as that, to speak vulgarly, why doesn’t he take another apartment, in a better house, more stately, with a proper entrance and large rooms? There is something secret and suspicious-looking about him, there in that hole, with all that silk⁠—”

Settembrini shrugged his shoulders.

“He is probably guided by considerations of taste and tact,” he said. “I imagine he salves his anti-capitalistic conscience by living in a poor house, and indemnifies himself by living in the style he keeps. And I should say that discretion plays some role in the affair too. No use advertising to all the world how well the Devil takes care of his own. He shows an unpretentious façade, and behind it gives free rein to tastes⁠—such as a prince of the Church⁠—”