"It must be known to you, Magister," began Mrs. Struvelius, "that the last publication of my husband has occasioned discussions which have been painful to all engaged in them, and I assume also to you."
Knips made a piteous face, and dropped his head entirely on one shoulder.
"I now appeal to the interest which you take in the studies of my husband, and I appeal to your heart, when I beseech you to give me frankly and straightforwardly the information which must be desirable to us all."
She stopped. Knips, with bent head, looked askance at her, and also remained silent.
"I beg for an answer," said Mrs. Struvelius, emphatically.
"With all my heart," began Knips at last, in a piping voice. "But I do not know what I have to answer to."
"My husband received from you the parchment which was the subject of his last treatise."
"Did the Professor tell you that?" asked Knips, still more piteously.
"No," answered Mrs. Struvelius; "but I heard you come, and I also heard that he promised to be silent about something, and when I entered his room later I saw the parchment lying on his table, and when I enquired about it, he said, 'That is a secret.'"
The Magister looked round about uneasily, and at last cast his eyes down on his knees, where his trousers were unusually threadbare and smooth from wear.