‘It wasn’t that.’
‘What was it, then?
‘For God’s sake don’t ask me! I can’t bear to think of it.
And then it all came out in an incoherent burst, through savagely choked tears. He had lost his honour. He was lowered in his own eyes. He would never be able to respect himself again. The two men stared at all this, wondering what lay behind it, until on a sudden the enigma became clear to both of them. The man with the eyeglass laughed like a horse, whinnying and neighing in mirth unrestrainable. Paul blundered blindly at the door, but Pauer stepped nimbly and set his back against it.
‘You young idiot!’ he said in a friendly voice, which had a little quiver in it which was not inspired by merriment.
Mr. George Darco continued to laugh until he rolled from his chair to the floor. He rose gasping and weeping.
‘Oh,’ he said, ‘vos there efer any think so vunny? Oh, somepoty holt me. I shall tie of it.’
He recovered slowly, and seeing how deeply his laughter wounded the object of it, he tried to look solemn, but broke out again. Pauer spoke sharply to him in the foreign tongue he had used before, and he subdued himself.
‘Go back to your chair and sit down,’ said Pauer, laying a hand on Paul’s shoulder. ‘Don’t make mountains out of molehills.’
The lad allowed himself to be pushed into a seat