"Poor heart, poor heart!" she whispered softly, with a sad mocking smile. "It will mend, Cæsar."
"You—you mean it?"
"With all my heart and soul."
"Then so be it."
She came to me and held out her arms. I clasped her in mine, and we kissed one another. Then both of us sat down again, and there was silence. Only once she spoke.
"How soon shall we go?" she asked.
"In about three weeks or a month, I suppose," I answered.
We were sitting silent when we heard a step on the stairs. "Hark!" she said. "It's Max's step." She rose quickly and turned the lamp lower, then seated herself in shadow. "May I tell him about it now?" she asked.
"Yes—if it must be so."
"Yes, it must." She kissed her hand to me, saying, "Good-bye." The door opened, and Max von Sempach came in. Before he could greet me she began: