“To be married?” said Burrell in astonishment. “What do you mean by that? Weren’t they married when they arrived?”
Before the waiter could answer, light had dawned upon the manager, who thereupon chimed in.
“Ah, my friend, I remember now,” he said. “That was the gentleman who was married at the Church of Funfhaus in the Gurtel Strasse. Now I can recall the pair perfectly.”
“The Church of Funfhaus in the Gurtel Strasse, you said, I think,” said Burrell, making a note of the name in his pocket-book for future reference. “Pray how long did the happy couple remain with you?”
“For upward of a fortnight,” the manager replied, consulting a book. “But they were not happy all the time!”
“What do you mean by that? Why were they not happy?”
“For a very simple reason,” the manager replied. “I mean that toward the end of their stay it was becoming plain to most of us that the gentleman was a little neglectful of his bride. Yet she was a beautiful girl! Ah! a beautiful girl!”
“It was the waning of the honeymoon,” said Burrell cynically. “Poor girl, it didn’t last long.” He paused for a while to pursue his own thoughts, then he continued aloud, “Have you any idea where they went after they left here?”
The manager reflected for a moment.
“To Munich, I believe. But of that I am not quite certain. We will ask Adolphe.”