"In case she does consent, do you think it best to see her alone?" he asked.
"Certainly," Leo replied, feeling that he was not used yet to the distasteful game he was pledged to play in the eyes of his unsuspecting friend.
"Then let me go in to her, and you wait out here. Forgive me," he added, "but unless it is her desire, I cannot permit you to enter the house consecrated to her honour."
Leo nearly crushed his hand in his own, but he hadn't the courage to meet the eyes that rested on him with their fiery brilliance melting into tenderness. He watched him disappear behind the statue of peace. He fixed his gaze absently on the marble woman, who seemed to hold out her palm-branch towards him with a friendly gesture. Then he began to pace up and down the forecourt with long strides. He dared not think of what was going on indoors at that moment.
Quarter of an hour passed, when Ulrich, glowing from excitement, his long neck eagerly thrust forward, came out.
"Leo?"
"Well, old fellow."
"It was difficult, Leo, but she gives her consent."
"Thank you, a hundred times, Uli," he stammered, and blushed like a lying schoolboy.
"So far, she has only one end in view," Ulrich continued. "That is, to send you home humiliated and wretched. But you must see what you can do with her, my boy, and think of the fever I am in meanwhile."