“You have sworn it on your child, remember. If you break your oath, he will be the sufferer.”
Tioka turned to us with shrill laughter. “Oh, look, mama, how beautiful it all is! Look at that fat policeman dancing.”
“When Kamarowsky finds you here—” Prilukoff went on; but I interrupted him.
“No, no. Let us leave Vienna at once.”
“It is useless. He will find us all the same. You are too striking,” he added, “to pass unobserved.” And with a cynical laugh he surveyed me from head to foot. “He had better not find me with you. I shall remain at the Hotel Victoria; but you and Tioka must go to the Bristol, and when that man joins you, this is what you must do—”
His iniquitous suggestions floated on the buoyant waltz music like carrion on the surface of a sparkling stream.
I shuddered in horror. “No, no,” I murmured. “Have pity! No ... no!”
Oh! that music of Lehar's, that every one knows and every one whistles, and that is played by every organ at every street-corner—what monstrous secrets does it murmur to my heart!
Ich gehe zu Maxim,
Da bin ich sehr intim...