“Then you are heart-free?”
“Did I say that? For God’s sake, let us talk about you again—not about me. The question now concerns your fate, your future—”
Franka nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, that is the question.”
“Then let us talk about it. Shall you remain in Lucerne? Shall you wait here for the return of the prince, or shall you go back to Austria, and is he to come and find you there? That would seem more fitting.”
“Would seem more fitting....” repeated Franka in a low tone, abstractedly. It was as if she were thinking of something else and repeated mechanically what had been said, only in order to say something.
“Shall you go to one of your estates?” continued Helmer. “The château on your Moravian property, for example, would make a fine setting.”
“A setting for what scene? Would you like to come to my Moravian property, too, Helmer?”
He shook his head vigorously. Franka proceeded:—
“In the forest skirting the garden, you would find places similar to this: there also flows a brook; there also springs gush out of the moss-covered stones.”
She pulled off her glove and laid her slender white hand on Chlodwig’s shoulder: “Will you go with me to my Moravian château?”