“Pray do, Mr. Warren,” said Reineke, smiling agreeably. “It is kind of you to find time to visit a sick wretch amid all your fêtes and sight-seeing.”
“Oh, that is a real pleasure. Only I am so sorry to see you cut up like this and losing all the fun. It was awfully jolly at the Von Hohenfels’ last week. There was an outrageous lioness there. For the life of me I could not catch her name. The governor wants to secure her for London. By Jove! what a tartar! She nearly ate the French viscount up in a bite.”
“Yes, I heard about it, but she is a very distinguished artist, I believe. You’ve been to Sunium since?”
“Came back to-day for the Jaroviskys’ ball. What a jolly people these Greeks are! The entire country seems at our disposal. Special trains, special boats and guides. Oh, we had an awfully good time, I tell you: inspected the Laurion mines, and looked awfully wise about them and everything else. But surely you’ll be able to go to the Jaroviskys’ to-morrow? What did the doctor say?”
“Nothing wise—a doctor never does.”
“Look here, old fellow, we can’t leave you here while we are dancing and flirting with the pretty Athenians.”
“If the pretty Athenians guessed my nationality, they would not be very eager to have me dance and flirt with them.”
“Then the governor was right? You are not a German?”
“No, I am a Turk. I have lived a good deal in Germany, so I adopted a Teuton name upon coming to Greece to avoid disagreeable associations for the natives. It is very comfortable. I was bored in Paris by the way people stared at me, and whispered openly about me when they heard my Turkish name, so I mean not to resume it. If I played the piano, the ladies fell into ecstatic wonder.”