"Nonsense, one doesn't call that being a coward."
"Call it whatever you like. Words never hit things off exactly. The more precisely they pretend to do so the less they really do. I know what I am. I would not go there for anything in the world. To make a fool of myself once more, no, no, no...."
"Well, what will you do?"
Heinrich shook his shoulders as though the matter really did not concern him.
Somewhat irritated, George went on questioning him. "If you will allow me to make a remark, what does the ... lady chiefly concerned have to say?"
"The lady who is chiefly concerned, as you call her, with a wit, which though unconscious is positively infernal, does not know for the time being anything about my getting anonymous letters."
"Have you left off corresponding with her?"
"What an idea! We write daily to each other as we did before. She the most tender and lying letters, I the meanest you can possibly imagine—disingenuous, reserved letters, that torture me to the quick."
"Look here, Heinrich, you are really not a very noble character."
Heinrich laughed out loud. "No, I am not noble. I clearly was not born to be that."