An expression of relief passed across Bernhardt face: "Ah? Allow me to wish you a pleasant winter." And he turned to go.
"O çà, Herr von Eikhoff!" Herr von Möhâzy called after him; "I will not detain you if you are expected at a rendezvous!" He laughed, and Bernhard made a gesture of impatience. "Pardon, but I should like to learn something of a lady whom perhaps you know."
"I can hardly have anything to tell of a lady whom you inquire for," Bernhard said, sharply, while a flush rose to his forehead.
But Herr von Möhâzy was not easily disconcerted. "Ah! pardon, I know you are un jeune homme vertueux; but my question refers to a lady of position, a Frau von---- Ah, what is her name at present?" He took out a note-book and turned over the leaves, while Bernhard, agitated by conflicting emotions, stood rooted as by a spell to the spot, instead of turning his back upon the man at once.
"Ah, here it is," said Herr von Möhâzy,--"Frau Julutta Wronsky." And he looked at Bernhard again. "Do you know her? and could you tell me where to find her? It is merely for un petit amusement sans consequence."
"You can look for the name in the directory," replied Bernhard, well knowing that 'Wronsky' could not be found in it.
"You do not know her, then? But, parbleu! you did know her, sûrement. Ah, I must take you into confidence; the story is very piquant."
"I regret, Herr Möhâzy, that I have not a moment to spare at present. Let me advise you to search the directory, and if you do not find the name there you may conclude that the lady is not in Berlin."
He jumped into his carriage and drove to his hotel.
"What will he do?" was the question that filled his mind, "and what can he do? He can certainly destroy the social position, and perhaps the very existence, of this woman, wretch that he is! But he must be prevented; he must!" He suddenly bethought himself and took himself to task.