The secretary's confusion had fled. Calm, self-contained, flinching not at all from the shrewd, searching eyes that were fixed on his own, he stood awaiting the breaking of the storm.
CHAPTER IV
A WARNING AND A THEORY
But, to Hartmann's surprise, the storm did not break. Instead, Peter Grimm sat gazing at him with impassive face,—gazing long and without a word. And when at last Grimm spoke, the old man's voice was as emotionless as his face.
"You love her?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," answered Hartmann, as calmly as though stating some fact in botany.
"H'—m!" rumbled Grimm, half to himself. "Ja vis! Ja vis!"
Hartmann still waited for the storm. And still it did not come.
"You love her?" repeated Grimm. "Does she know?"