"Shame on you, Franz," said the philosopher, with his sad, mild smile.
Franz mumbled and muttered a little and then lighted his pipe.
"No, she was pure as an angel," the philosopher went on. "You and I are the criminals. Listen to me. It was forty-three years ago. You had just been ordered to Berlin as a captain, and I was teaching at the University. You know what a wild fellow you were then."
"Hm," said Franz, and raised his shaking hand to twist the points of his moustache.
"There was a beautiful actress with big black eyes and small white teeth. Do you remember?"
"Do I remember! Bianca was her name." A feeble smile flitted across the old man's weatherbeaten countenance with the marks on it of hard and fast living. "She could bite, I tell you, she could bite!"
"You deceived your wife, and she suspected it. But she never said anything, and suffered in silence. You did not notice it, but I did. She was the first woman I got to know after my mother's death. She came into my life like a shining star, and I looked up to her as to a shining star. Finally I summoned up the courage to ask her what was troubling her. She smiled and said she was not feeling quite well yet. You remember, it was only a short while before that Paul had been born. Then came New Year's eve--exactly forty-three years ago this very night. I came to your house at about eight o'clock, as usual. She sat embroidering, and I read to her while we waited for you. The hours passed, one by one. You did not come. I saw how uneasy she became and how she began to tremble, and I trembled with her. I knew what was keeping you, and I was afraid that you would forget twelve o'clock in that woman's arms. It was getting very near the hour. She stopped embroidering, and I stopped reading, and an awful silence descended on us. I saw a tear creep out slowly from between her lashes and fall down on her embroidery. I jumped up and wanted to go out and bring you home. I felt capable of tearing you by force from that woman's side. But at the same instant your wife jumped up, too, from this very seat I am sitting on.
"'Where are you going?' she cried. There was unspeakable dread in her face.
"'I am going to get Franz,' I said.
"At that she fairly screamed.