“Is it of any use to be offended with my speeches? Am I an acquaintance of yesterday? Do you imagine that it could ever be my intention to annoy you?” the questions were asked rapidly in tones of genuine anxiety.
“Indeed, I hardly know how I could suppose that. You have always been friendly—but I confess—your names for things are not—always——”
The Wanderer did not complete the sentence, but looked gravely at Keyork as though wishing to convey very clearly again what he had before expressed in words.
“If we were fellow-countrymen and had our native language in common, we should not so easily misunderstand one another,” replied the other. “Come, forgive my lack of skill, and do not let us quarrel. Perhaps I can help you. You may know Prague well, but I know it better. Will you allow me to say that I know also whom it is you are seeking here?”
“Yes. You know. I have not changed since we last met, nor have circumstances favoured me.”
“Tell me—have you really seen this Unorna, and talked with her?”
“This morning.”
“And she could not help you?”
“I refused to accept her help, until I had done all that was in my own power to do.”
“You were rash. And have you now done all, and failed?”