‘You were not to express an opinion, I believe,’ observed Rex, looking coldly at the younger man.
‘Can you describe him?’ asked Greif, almost fiercely.
‘Oh yes,’ replied the other. ‘He is elderly, almost old. Perhaps sixty years of age. He is violent, unreliable, generally unfortunate, probably disgraced. That is no doubt the reason why you dread his return—’
‘Look here, Herr Rex!’ cried Greif, interrupting him violently. ‘I do not care a straw for our compact, as you call it—’
‘You agreed to it. I did not desire to speak further in the matter.’
‘Will you agree to forget that there was any compact?’ asked Greif desperately.
‘Oh no, certainly not,’ answered his tormenter. ‘And you will not forget it either. You are a man of your word, Herr von Greifenstein. All I can do is to hold my tongue and tell you nothing more.’
‘That need not prevent my quarrelling with you about something else—’
‘No, if you find it possible. It is not easy to quarrel with me.’
‘But if I were to insult you—’