He practiced for hours daily. He often took Mizzi
to the park and came back storming about the dirt, the
noise, the haste, the rudeness, the crowds, the
mismanagement of the entire city. Dummheit, he called it.
They profaned the lake. They allowed the people to trample
the grass. They threw papers and banana skins about. And
they wasted! His years in Germany had taught him to regard
all these things as sacrilege, and the last as downright
criminal. He was lonesome for his Germany. That was plain.
He hated it, and loved it, much as he hated and loved the
woman who had so nearly spoiled his life. The maelstrom
known as the southwest corner of State and Madison streets
appalled him.
"Gott!" he exclaimed. "Es ist unglaublich! Aber ganz
unglaublich! Ich werde bald veruckt." He somehow lapsed
into German when excited.
Fanny took him to the Haynes-Cooper plant one day, and it
left him dazed, and incredulous. She quoted millions at
him. He was not interested. He looked at the office
workers, the mail-room girls, and shook his head, dumbly.
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