“So you think it quite impossible that we can beat the Russians?”
“Not exactly impossible, but extremely improbable—at least while the military situation remains what it is. Again, it is the absence of definite information that surprises me. A victorious general always finds time to communicate details, which the vanquished is only too glad to defer. I am convinced that the bad news will soon follow, and that, as far as our plans for the journey are concerned, everything will remain as before.”
Edith was silent. Her belief in Heideck was so unbounded that his words had completely convinced her. But they did not restore the joyful confidence of the last few days.
“Everything will remain as before?” she said at length. “That means you will leave us at Brindisi.”
“Certainly. There is no other way for me to reach the army.”
“And suppose you abandon the idea of returning to the army altogether? Have you never thought that we might find another foundation on which to build our future happiness?”
Heideck looked at her in amazement.
“No, dearest Edith, I have not thought of it. It would have been a useless and foolish idea, so long as my duty and honour prescribe most definitely what I have to do.”
“Duty and honour! Of course, I ought to have known that you would at once be ready again with fine words. It is so convenient to be able to take shelter behind so unassailable a rampart, if at the same time it falls in with one’s own wishes.”
“Edith! How unjust the melancholy events of the last few weeks have made you! If you think it over quietly, you will see that my personal wishes and my heart’s desires are not in question at all. And really I do not understand what you think I could possibly do.”