The girl kissed her hand, protested gratitude, and withdrew.
“After all,” said Margarethe, when Ordham ventured to return, “who shall say? In Zulu land the biggest liar is king.”
“At least they have the advantage of the support of society! Ours are no better and are such shocking hypocrites, when no worse—you never hear of infanticide in this country. Probably most morality could be sifted down to utility. It is wrapped up in charming and traditional sentiments, but the kernel is plastic. These peasants find it more economical after the third discretion to set up an establishment of their own. For most of us, alas! the straight and narrow way is a more comfortable fit in the long run.”
“The simplicity and safety of your philosophy is delightful, but I fancy your temperament has saved you from a good many disasters. And I am told that you very nearly scorched your fingers not so long ago, and that only a goitre saved you. Do you ever think of poor little Frau von Wass dosing and varnishing herself in her lonely castle?”
Ordham scowled, and when he scowled he no longer looked very young. “I do not think of things I wish to forget,” he said shortly. “What is the use?”
“None whatever! How fortunate you are. No doubt you will forget all this a month after the inevitable end.”
“Oh! oh! How can you say such a thing?” He shook his finger at her, his gayety instantly restored. “Besides, I shall never be very far away. I shall always be coming back to see you. Munich, thank heaven, is in the middle of Europe. I shall come here often, no matter where I am sent.”
“Suppose you are sent to St. Petersburg or the United States?”
“I shall manage not to be. Great heaven! Fancy not to be able to see you for months at a time!” He looked appalled.
“What if you marry?”