“Ah, Krokowski,” Settembrini cried. “There he goes⁠—he who knows all the secrets in the bosoms of our ladies⁠—pray observe the delicate symbolism of his attire: he wears black to indicate that his proper field of study is the night. The man has but one idea in his head, and that a smutty one. How does it happen, Engineer, that we have not spoken of him until now? You have made his acquaintance?”

Hans Castorp answered in the affirmative.

“Well? I am beginning to suspect that you like him, too.”

“I don’t know, really, Herr Settembrini. I’ve seen him only casually. And I am not very quick in my judgments. I am inclined to look at people and say: ‘So that’s you, is it? Very good.’ ”