"I have found out the truth," said Peter, solemnly.
"What truth?" Peter shook his head, not despondently so much as in dismay. The thing which he had to tell was so very bad! He felt it so keenly, not on his own account so much as on account of his friend! All that was expressed by the manner in which Peter shook his head. "What truth have you found out, Peter? Tell me at once," said Madame Staubach.
"She has got a—lover."
"Who? Linda! I do not believe it."
"She has owned it. And such a lover!" Whereupon Peter Steinmarc lifted up both his hands.
"What lover? Who is he? How does she know him, and when has she seen him? I cannot believe it. Linda has never been false to me."
"Her lover is—Ludovic Valcarm."
"Your cousin?"
"My cousin Ludovic—who is a good-for-nothing, a spendthrift, a fellow without a florin, a fellow that plays cards on Sundays."
"And who fears neither God nor Satan," said Madame Staubach. "Peter Steinmarc, I do not believe it. The child can hardly have spoken to him."