STUDENT. Was she very lovely?
HUMMEL. Mm-yah—well....
STUDENT. Speak out.
HUMMEL. Oh, we can't form any judgment about people, my dear boy. And if I told you that she left him, that he beat her, that she returned to him, that she married him a second time, and that she is living there now in the shape of a mummy, worshipping her own statue—then you would think me crazy.
STUDENT. I don't understand at all.
HUMMEL. I didn't expect you would. Then there is the window with the hyacinths. That's where his daughter lives? She is out for a ride now, but she will be home in a few moments.
STUDENT. And who is the dark lady talking to the janitress?
HUMMEL. The answer is rather complicated, but it is connected with the dead man on the second floor, where you see the white sheets.
STUDENT. Who was he?
HUMMEL. A human being like you or me, but the most conspicuous thing about him was his vanity.... If you were born on a Sunday, you might soon see him come down the stairway and go out on the sidewalk to make sure that the flag of the consulate is half-masted. You see, he was a consul, and he revelled in coronets and lions and plumed hats and coloured ribbons.