The queen stared at Gunther vacantly. She tried to rise, but could not. She mutely motioned him to give her the letter. Gunther handed it to her.
The queen read it and turned pale as a corpse. Her features grew rigid; her hands fell to her side, as if palsied; her eyes closed, an expression as of death lay on her lips. Presently, she shook as if in a chill, and then her face became flushed, as if burning. She sprang to her feet and exclaimed:
"No! no! Have you done this? Could you act thus, Irma? You--"
She fell back in her chair, covered her face with both hands, and exclaimed:
"And she kissed my child, and he kissed it! Oh, they kissed that which was purest of all, well knowing how impure their own lips were. They talked in the loftiest strain, and yet the words did not cut their tongues like sharp knives! Oh, how disgusting! How disgusting, how tainted everything seems! How I loathe myself! And he dared to tell me that a prince could have no private actions, for his deeds are an example to others. Shame! shame! Everything is vile, everything is despicable! Everything!"
She looked around, bewildered. She was as terrible in her indignation as she had been beautiful in her grief.
With vacant gaze she regarded every object that had once met Irma's eye, and when her glance again fell upon the flower-table, she turned away with a convulsive start, as if serpents had darted from the flowers. Again she exclaimed:
"Oh, how loathsome! Oh, how vile, how disgusting! I beg of you, leave me alone! May I not be alone?"
"Let me remain with Your Majesty," said the Doctor, taking her hand, which hung as if lifeless at her side.
Countess Brinkenstein withdrew.