“Das kann sein—das kann sein.”
The two continued to stand there in the brown evening, and they had some further conversation of a desultory and irrelevant kind. At the end of ten minutes the Princess broke out in a low tone, laying her hand on her companion’s arm: “Mr. Schinkel, this won’t do. I’m intolerably worried.”
“Yes, that’s the nature of ladies,” the German sagely answered.
“I want to go up to his room,” the Princess said. “You’ll be so good as to show me where it is.”
“It will do you no good if he’s not there.”
“I’m not sure he’s not there.”
“Well, if he won’t speak it shows he likes better not to have visitors.”
“Oh he may like to have me better than he does you!” she frankly suggested.
“Das kann sein—das kann sein.” But Schinkel made no movement to introduce her into the house.
“There’s nothing to-night—you know what I mean,” she remarked with a deep look at him.