“And of what?”

“Of a blood-clot, Herr Hofrat.”

“A blood-clot, eh? Well, that’s a long time ago. And your father?”

“He died of pneumonia,” Hans Castorp said; “and my grandfather too,” he added.

“Both of them, eh? Good. So much for your ancestors. Now about yourself⁠—you have always been rather chlorotic, haven’t you? But you didn’t tire easily at physical or mental work. Or did you⁠—what? A good deal of palpitation? Only of late? Good. And a strong inclination to catarrhal and bronchial trouble?⁠—Did you know you have been infected before now?”

“I?”

“Yes, you⁠—I have you personally in mind. Can you hear any difference?” The Hofrat tapped by turns on Hans Castorp’s left side, first above and then lower down.