"No. At the time when he wrote his last will, before myself and old Baumann, he was still in possession of his mind, though sick and feeble; he made you his sole heir, as he was bound to do. He knew he owed you at least that sign of repentance. He meant to say by that: I am not quite as bad as you thought me; I see at least that I have made you very unhappy, and I would try to undo what I have done, if it were in my power."
"Let us drop that subject!" said Melitta, rising and leaning over the railing of the balcony to look down into the dark street. Then she came back into the room and said:
"Do you go straight back to Cona?"
"No, I mean to spend the time that is left me by going up the Rhine; perhaps I shall come back here on my return."
"Then leave Czika here, will you? As a pledge that you do come back."
"Do you really wish it, Melitta?"
"You have once more been very kind to me."
"Then it is simply from gratitude?"
"And--friendship."
"Farewell, Melitta!"