"Too much honour ... But you don't expect Englishwomen to join your harem, do, you?"
"There would have been a certain repose in belonging to a woman of your type. But it's the charm—physical charm—we poor wretches can't do without."
"Upon my word, it's almost a declaration!" cried Madeleine, not unnettled. "Take my advice, Heinz. Hie you home, and marry the person you ought to. Take pity on the poor thing's constancy. Unless," she added, a moment later, with a sarcastic laugh, "since you're still so infatuated with Louise, you persuade her to transfer her favours to you. That would solve all difficulties in the most satisfactory way. She would have the variety that seems necessary to her existence; you could lie on your knees before her all day long; and our friend would be restored to sanity. Think it over, Heinz. It's a good idea."
"Do you think she'd have me?" he asked, as he shook himself into his coat.
"Heaven knows and Heaven only! Where Louise is concerned, nothing's impossible—I've always maintained it."
"Well, ta-ta!—You shall have early news, I promise you."
Madeleine heard him go down the stair, whistling the ROSE OF SHARON. But he could not have been half-way to the bottom, when he turned and came back. Holding her door ajar, he stuck a laughing face into the room.
"Upon my word, Mada, I congratulate you! It's a colossal idea."
But Madeleine had had enough of him. "I'm glad it pleases you. Now go, go! You've played the fool here long enough."
When he emerged from the house, Krafft had stopped whistling. He walked with his hands in his pockets, his felt hat pulled down over his eyes. At the corner, he was so lost in thought as to be unable to guide his feet: he stood and gazed at the pavement. Still on the same spot, he pushed his hat to the back of his head, and burst into such an eerie peal of laughter that some ladies, who were coming towards him, started back, and, picking up their skirts, went off the pavement, in order to avoid passing him too nearly.