"Any time," said I, watching Gretchen whose eyes widened, "will be agreeable to me."
Gretchen made as though to speak, but the Prince anticipated her.
"It is merely a little discussion, Your Highness," he said, "which Herr
Winthrop and I left unfinished earlier in the evening. Good night."
On the way to the cloak room it kept running through my mind that I had lost. Thursday?—she said Thursday was the day of her wedding? It would be an evil day for me.
Pembroke was in the cloak room.
"Going?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Well, let us go together. Where shall it be—Egypt or the steppes of
Siberia?"
"Home first," said I; "then we shall decide."
When we got into the carriage we lit cigars. For some reason Pembroke was less talkative than usual. Suddenly he pulled down the window, and a gust of snow blew in. Then up went the window again, but the cigar was gone.