"Thanks! Am going away directly. Only wanted to see--quite near here--was at Grenwitz--everybody out there--came over here to see how all were."
"But you surely have a few minutes?"
"Not a moment--'pon honor," said Cloten, emptying his glass and rising; "call in to-morrow, perhaps. Good-by, baron."
Cloten again bowed very formally to Oswald and went to the door, accompanied by the baron.
"I pray, don't trouble yourself," said Cloten.
"I just want to have a look at Robin," replied Oldenburg, and then to Oswald; "excuse me a moment, doctor."
Oswald was alone. The remarkably cool manner of the young nobleman had offended his pride, though he tried to convince himself that he despised him. He walked up and down in the room, much excited. His hatred of the nobility had been fanned into a flame; even Oldenburg's manner seemed to him to have been less cordial while Cloten was there.
His eye fell upon the green silk curtain between the two bookcases, which had struck him before.
"I wonder what this veiled image means? Perhaps a voluptuous Correggio. At all events, a key to the better knowledge of this strange man. You'll excuse my curiosity, monsieur le baron?"
Oswald pulled the silken cord of the curtain, and the youth at Saïs, who lifted the veil before the sacred image of Isis, could not have been more startled than Oswald was when he saw, not a richly tinted Italian painting, but in a niche, a bust of chaste white marble, which, in spite of the antique hair-dress and a slight attempt to idealize, was nothing else than a striking portrait of Melitta. There was her rich waving hair; there her beautiful smooth brow, the straight, delicate nose; there were the soft lips, looking dewy even in marble!