"Come; the comedy is a poor one," said the Count.
I followed him out of the garden. My indifference to personal safety was due to a numbness which had taken hold of me.
"Get in," he said, when we reached the carriage. I did so, and he got in after me. The driver appeared confused. It was not his fare, according to the agreement. "To the city," he was briefly told. "Your hotel?" turning to me. I named it. "Do you understand German?"
"But indifferently," I answered listlessly.
"It appears that you understand neither the language nor the people.
Who are you?"
"That is my concern," I retorted. I was coming about, and not unnaturally became vicious.
"It concerns me also," was the gruff reply.
"Have your own way about it."
"How came you by that medal?" pointing to my breast.
"Honestly," said I.