The present Schmeie was but a shadow of him of yore: he looked pale as a ghost, his nose had become pointed and prominent, and his head drooped down like the cup of a fading flower.
Anton cried out in amazement, "Tinkeles, is it really you ?" and went up to him.

Tinkeles collapsed as if struck by a thunderbolt, and stared with wide-opened eyes at Anton, an image of horror and alarm.
"God of justice!" were the only words that escaped his white lips.
"What is the matter with you, Tinkeles?
you look a most miserable sinner.

What are you doing in this place, and what in the world leads you to this house, of all others ?" "I can not help being here," answered the trader, still half unconscious.

"I can not help our principal being so unfortunate.

His blood has flowed on account of the goods which Mausche Fischel sent off, having been paid for them.