happy manner, and I will praise myself for not showing any hurry and
displeasure at that time. So, leave it as it is, my friend, and don't
harm yourself by scolding! If the day will come, when you will see:
this Siddhartha is harming me, then speak a word and Siddhartha will go
on his own path. But until then, let's be satisfied with one another."

Futile were also the merchant's attempts, to convince Siddhartha that he
should eat his bread. Siddhartha ate his own bread, or rather they both
ate other people's bread, all people's bread. Siddhartha never listened
to Kamaswami's worries and Kamaswami had many worries. Whether there
was a business-deal going on which was in danger of failing, or whether
a shipment of merchandise seemed to have been lost, or a debtor seemed
to be unable to pay, Kamaswami could never convince his partner that it
would be useful to utter a few words of worry or anger, to have wrinkles
on the forehead, to sleep badly. When, one day, Kamaswami held against
him that he had learned everything he knew from him, he replied: "Would
you please not kid me with such jokes! What I've learned from you is
how much a basket of fish costs and how much interests may be charged on
loaned money. These are your areas of expertise. I haven't learned to
think from you, my dear Kamaswami, you ought to be the one seeking to
learn from me."

Indeed his soul was not with the trade. The business was good enough
to provide him with the money for Kamala, and it earned him much more
than he needed. Besides from this, Siddhartha's interest and curiosity
was only concerned with the people, whose businesses, crafts, worries,
pleasures, and acts of foolishness used to be as alien and distant to
him as the moon. However easily he succeeded in talking to all of them,
in living with all of them, in learning from all of them, he was still
aware that there was something which separated him from them and this