The Count looked after her long and earnestly, then he passed his hand over his brow, and turned away.
"We are alone, what do you wish to say to me?"
"That I am at last tired out of being dictated to by you, of being treated like a schoolboy, and insulted. What has passed between Gertrud and me concerns no third."
"Really?" The Count's voice was still calm, but passion lurked underneath it. "You may be mistaken."
"It is all the same to me what you think. You have attacked me, thrown me to the ground. I demand satisfaction for this insult; do you hear, Hermann, I demand it from you!"
The Count shrugged his shoulders.
"A duel between us? That would indeed be more than ridiculous."
"Ah, you refuse?"
"Yes! It would be a poor return to my grandmother's hospitality, to shoot each other dead on her estate, added to which, Antonie is too near a relation, and I must openly confess to you, Eugen, my life and work are too valuable to me, for me to risk it for the sake of one of your mad moods. I certainly refuse."
Eugen clenched his fist in boundless rage.