"It was a happy day, then, yesterday?" he asked quickly.
"Yes—that is, it ought to have been, and probably would have been if—if I hadn't been tired."
"But the others—the new arrivals—they must have been happy?"
"Yes—oh yes—" said Anna, hesitating, "I think so. Fräulein Kuhräuber was, I am sure, at intervals. I think the other two would have been if they hadn't had a journey."
"By the way, do you remember what I said yesterday about the Elmreichs?"
"Yes, I do. You said horrid things." Her voice changed.
"About a Baron Elmreich. But he had a sister who made a hash of her life. I saw her once or twice in Berlin. She was dancing at the Wintergarten, and under her own name."
"Poor thing. But it doesn't interest me."
"Don't get angry yet."
"But it doesn't interest me. And why shouldn't she dance? I knew several people who ended by dancing at London Wintergartens."