"Ah, madam, what can I do for you?" said Von Barwig, rising from the table at which he was writing.
Miss Husted smiled sweetly. She noticed that he was writing music, so he must be a composer as well as a professor.
"Will you please come and sign for a registered letter?" she said.
"Ah, yes! I come at once."
He arose, held the door open for Miss Husted to pass out, bowing to her as she did so, and then coming into the hallway, fulfilled the postal requirements, totally unconscious that several pairs of eyes were watching the operation. The letter-carrier handed him two letters; one bearing the postmark Leipsic, the other that of New York.
Von Barwig returned to his room and read the following from a firm of stock brokers:
"Herr Anton Von Barwig.
"DEAR SIR: Pursuant to your instructions, we have sold the balance of the securities you left with us, but they have so depreciated in value during your seven years' absence from Leipsic, that we hesitated to sell them at their present market price. However, your instructions in regard to these securities were definite and we have obeyed them. Hoping this will meet with your satisfaction, we remain,
"Yours obediently,
"BERNSTEIN & DEUTSCH."
A draft on Drexel, Morgan's bank, for $1,000 dropped from Von Barwig's hand; he picked it up mechanically and looked at it.