"Come! let's drop the subject," he said in a voice of despair, "all my hopes are shattered by that cursed plaster. It's finished now, and it is no good crying over spilt milk."
"What nonsense you are talking. My dear boy, it's the finest thing for you that could ever have happened."
"The finest thing that could have happened? What do you mean?"
"My dear fellow, you've got the game in your own hands now. By putting that beastly plaster, as you call it, on your chest, she handed you the trump card. You have only to appear angry to bring her to her knees, and you can name your own conditions of capitulation. Get a diamond ring, my boy, and the sooner the better."
"Do you really think she will let me put it on her finger?"
"If she likes you ever so little, and has no one else on her string she will, especially if you make your declaration of love at the psychological moment."
"And how am I to know when that is?" enquired Marcel in a tone of great anxiety.
"When she comes to beg your forgiveness. But," added Riche, "you must not forgive her right away, you must first play with your fish. Pay out the line until the fish is getting exhausted, and then you will be able to haul it in without any difficulty."
"Upon my soul, Riche, you are an artful card. Where did you manage to learn these things?"
"Ich habe gelebt and geliebt," replied Riche with a smile, humming Schubert's well known air.