‘It would not be like you, Frau Berbel,’ said the man, with affected indifference.
‘Perhaps not,’ replied Berbel, smiling unconsciously at the subtle flattery bestowed upon her scrupulously honest character. ‘Perhaps not. I had thought of it, as you say.’
‘And I had thought that unless the old wolf’s coat were there with the hole in the pocket, Frau Berbel might not be able to make it quite clear that Master Wastei had spoken the truth. But if the truth is quite clear, why then—’ he paused, as though he did not care what might happen in such a case.
Berbel looked at him for a moment, and then laughed a little, a phenomenon which with her was exceedingly unusual.
‘You are really not stupid at all,’ she remarked. The ghost of a smile played about Wastei’s thin lips as he turned his eyes upon her. Their expression was at once keen, cunning and good-natured.
‘Nobody ever said I was particularly dull,’ he answered.
‘Then you want me to show the coat, together with the letter?’
‘Of course.’
‘But when they know that it belonged to Herr von Greifenstein, they will wish to keep it, will they not?’
‘Of course,’ repeated Wastei.