“What do you mean by this?”
“All right, sir... Be there in a minute.” His step was a little unsteady as he hastened to his horses. “Where’ll you go, sir?”
“Prater—Summer-house.”
Franz entered the carriage. His companion sat back in a corner, crouching fearsomely under the shadow of the cover.
He took both her hands in his. She sat silent. “Won’t you say good evening to me?”
“Give me a moment to rest, dear. I’m still out of breath.”
He leaned back in his corner. Neither spoke for some minutes. The carriage turned into the Prater Street, passed the Tegethoff Monument, and a few minutes later was rolling swiftly through the broad, dark Prater Avenue.
Emma turned suddenly and flung both arms around her lover’s neck. He lifted the veil that still hung about her face, and kissed her.
“I have you again—at last!” she exclaimed.
“Do you know how long it is since we have seen each other?” he asked.