Güntz shook his head thoughtfully.
"No, Kläre," he replied. "I understand Reimers. He would never have anything to do with mere passing flirtations. It is just the dear fellow's misfortune that he takes everything so damned seriously. It went pretty deep with him that time with the Gropphusen; you can believe me as to that."
"Still, one does not cling for all eternity to such a useless sort of business."
Güntz was not quite convinced.
"Well, we must hope not," he said. "And, really, the two would suit each other excellently."
Walking up and down the room he continued: "Yes, in all respects. Reimers has an income of about seventy thousand marks, and the colonel would certainly be able to give his daughter a bit of money without having to pinch himself. I should say about twenty thousand. True, he is no Crœsus; but then he will soon be made a general. Our dear Reimers will have to keep his passion for books in check. Yes, yes! The thing would answer admirably."
He stood still and knocked the ash off his cigar.
"Why are you laughing, you sly little woman?" he asked, glancing down at her.
"How funny you are, Fatty!" Kläre answered. "You accuse me quite sternly of the worst intentions, and then you make plan after plan, and even begin to reckon up their joint income!"
But Güntz parried the accusation gallantly: