“Surely,” Grey hazarded. Then the girl was not the old German’s daughter, after all, though she was to inherit his property. The affair was growing a trifle complicated.
“And Herr Captain Lindenwald—will he, do you think, Herr Arndt, marry the Fräulein?”
Grey was silent. If this fellow was a servant he was evidently forgetting his place, and it was well to remind him of it.
“How odd it is I never can remember your name!” he said, at length, ignoring the question and scowling a little.
“Yes, yes, to be sure. How stupid!”
And then they turned in at the broad marble entrance of the hotel.