‘Of course.’
‘Have I gained any advantage from our acquaintance, excepting your society and that of your Korps? Think well before you answer.’
‘Certainly not,’ replied Greif. ‘I am quite sure that you have not. What a foolish question!’
‘It seems so to you, no doubt. But it is far from foolish. You say that you remember that evening well. Then you recollect that I told you I knew nothing of you or your family. I made certain predictions. Well, I made them according to the figure, as you saw by the unexpected arrival of that telegram. But I lied to you about the rest. I knew perfectly well who you were, whence you came, and what your father’s half-brother had done.’
Greif had drawn back a little during the first part of this declaration. At the statement that Rex had deceived him he started and drew himself up, his face showing plainly enough that his wrath was not far off.
‘And may I ask your reasons for practising this deception upon me?’ he inquired coldly.
‘There is but one reason, and that is of a somewhat startling nature,’ returned Rex, leaning back against the table and resting his two hands upon it. ‘You allow that I have got no personal advantage out of your friendship. I desired none. I only wanted to know you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I am your cousin. My name is Rieseneck. I am the only son of your father’s half-brother.’
Greif’s eyes flashed, and the hot blood mounted to his face. The information was surprising enough, and his hatred of his uncle was likely to produce trouble.