Steinmetz was tapping impatiently on the floor with his broad boot.
“About whom—about whom?” cried the countess, clapping her soft hands together.
“Well, about Prince Paul,” said De Chauxville, looking at Steinmetz with airy defiance.
Steinmetz moved a little. He placed himself in front of Catrina, who had suddenly lost color. She could only see his broad back. The others in the room could not see her at all. She was rather small, and Steinmetz hid her as behind a screen.
“Ah!” he said to the countess, “his marriage! But Madame the Countess assuredly knows of that.”
“How could she?” put in De Chauxville.
“The countess knew that Prince Paul was going to be married,” explained Karl Steinmetz very slowly, as if he wished to give some one time. “With such a man as he, ‘going to be’ is not very far from being.”
“Then it is an accomplished fact?” said the countess sharply.
“Yesterday,” answered Steinmetz.
“And you were not there!” exclaimed Countess Lanovitch, with uplifted hands.