"The obedient, humble servant."
The General did not interrupt his son for some minutes, but as Ottomar still remained motionless, staring in front of him, his teeth pressing hard on his white lip, he stopped in his walk at the far end of the room, and asked:
"Have you any idea who wrote that letter?"
"No."
"Have you the slightest suspicion that the lady whom it concerns----"
"Good heavens!" exclaimed Ottomar impetuously.
"I beg your pardon, but I am under the painful necessity of asking questions, as you do not appear disposed to give me the explanations which I expected."
"What am I to explain!" asked Ottomar half defiantly; "the thing is true."
"Short and conclusive," answered the General, "but not quite clear. At least, some points still require clearing up. Have you anything to reproach this lady with--I may call her so?"
"I must beg you to do so."