The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann

Tuesday was the last day of our hero's week up here, and accordingly he found his weekly bill in his room on his return from the morning walk. It was a clear and businesslike document, in a green envelope, with a picture of the Berghof building at the top, and extracts from the prospectus carried in a narrow column down the left-hand side of the sheet. "Psychoanalytic treatment, by the most modern methods" was called attention to by means of spaced type. The items, set down in a calligraphic hand, came to one hundred and eighty francs almost exactly: eight francs a day for his chamber, twelve for board and medical attendance, entrance fee twenty, disinfection of room ten, while small charges for laundry, beer, and the late dinner of the first evening made up the sum.

Hans Castorp went over the bill with Joachim and found naught to object to. "Of course I made no use of the medical attendance," he said, "but that was my own affair. It is included in the price of pension, and I couldn't expect them to make any deduction; how could they? As regards the disinfection, they must show a neat profit there, they never could have used ten francs' worth of H2CO to smoke the American woman out. But on the whole I must say I find it cheap rather than dear, considering what they offer. " And before second breakfast they went down to the management in order that Hans Castorp might acquit himself of his debt.