"Thank you, George."
He led her to the chaise longue and sat down by her side. "Good God, what filth! There is just one thing I should like to know. Do you happen to remember the day—I mean the date when this—this—creature came to you and entreated you to keep silence?"
"How could I not remember it?" she said teasingly, trying to restore him to a happier frame of mind: "don't you know I just told you it was the day after I first met you. Surely, George, you have not forgotten that!"
He knitted his brow. "Don't be vexed, Olga, but my brain is in such a whirl just now that I simply can't remember a thing."
She took from her finger a diamond ring which he had given her in remembrance of their first meeting, on which the date was engraved. Then she handed it to him.
"Yes, of course, how could I have forgotten it!" He was suddenly thoughtful, and then he jumped up with a start.
"What is the matter now?" she asked, frightened.
"Nothing, nothing," he assured her; "I just remembered that when Willberg came to me for the first time to borrow money, he must have known of our relations. He had seen you, and yet he had the audacity to come to me. Now it's all clear to me; now I understand why he begged me so urgently not to say a word to anyone; he feared that perhaps I would tell you, and that then it would come out how he had treated you. Of course, that was it!"
He strode up and down the room, occupied with his own thoughts.