“Yes, but she didn’t hear him.”
The Princess reflected and was conscious she was flushing. She knew what Schinkel knew about their young friend’s actual situation and she wished to be very clear with him and to induce him to be the same with her. She was rather baffled, however, by the sense that he was cautious—justly cautious. He was polite and inscrutable, quite like some of the high personages—ambassadors and cabinet ministers—whom she used to meet in the great world. “Has the woman been here in the house ever since?” she asked in a moment.
“No, she went out for ten minutes half an hour ago.”
“Surely then he may have gone out again in that time,” the Princess argued.
“That’s what I’ve thought. It’s also why I’ve waited here,” said Schinkel. “I’ve nothing to do,” he added serenely.
“Neither have I,” she returned. “We can wait together.”
“It’s a pity you haven’t some nice room,” the German suggested with sympathy.
“No indeed; this will do very well. We shall see him the sooner when he comes back.”
“Yes, but perhaps it won’t be for long.”
“I don’t care for that; I’ll wait. I hope you don’t object to my company,” she smiled.