“An eyeglass?”
“I have it,” said Gurther promptly.
“The cravat—is it not too proper?”
Gurther fingered his tie.
“For the grand habit I respectfully claim that the proper tie is desirable, if you will graciously permit.”
The Herr Doktor nodded.
“You shall go with God, Gurther,” he said piously, took a golden cigarette-case from his pocket and handed it to the man. “Sit down, my dear friend.”
He rose and pointed to the chair he had vacated.
“In my own chair, Gurther. Nothing is too good for you. Now here is the arrangement . . .”
Step by step he unfolded the time-table, for chronology was almost as great a passion with this strange and wicked man as it was with Aunt Alma.