“I never have, most gracious Countess.”
“I know, I know; you have the reputation of having been a genuine Don Juan. However, as far as Franka is concerned, she seems to have kept her head. In spite of this adventurous life—this gallivanting about and making speeches, nothing discreditable has ever been charged against her.”
“So much the worse for her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if one hears nothing bad about a young woman, it means that nothing pleasant has happened to her.”
“You are a terrible man! Albertine, we ought never to have trusted ourselves to his escort!”
The old maid did not understand the joke. “Why not?” she asked earnestly. “He is certainly a very respectable gentleman. But do you know, Baron Malhof, I should like to give you one piece of advice: you ought not to comb your back hair over your bald spot. Excuse my frankness; but it is not at all becoming to you.”
The baron nervously and awkwardly moved his hand over the place to which such invidious attention had been called. “Good Heavens! One does the best one can....”
“Oh, you, with your everlasting frankness,” exclaimed the countess reprovingly.
Coriolan went on reading his newspaper. “Here among the names of the Rose comedians stands that of a Herr Helmer; wasn’t that fool Jew, who was Eduard’s last secretary, named Helmer?”