The young creatures, six of them altogether, stood up and ranged themselves in a half-circle. They were all blushing, and all cast their eyes on their plates. There was not one in this bevy of girls who had not languished for him since she was twelve years old, who had not felt a romantic thrill at the story of the fatal duel, and the flight from his fatherland of the much-admired murderer. There were two younger sisters Podewyl, then Trude Krassow, Susi Neuhaus, and two bourgeois maidens with whom they were compassionately intimate.
Leo's eye rested with pleasure on the pale-golden and reddish-golden heads of the little crew who stood with beating hearts smiling at him. He was elated that the game he played was turning out so well. An ecstasy of success rushed over him, giving his spirits wings and doubling his capabilities of enjoyment. He squeezed each of the soft rosy hands, and gazed with the rapture of a privileged flame into each pair of shining eyes.
He had quite forgotten Felicitas; and then he took his leave of them in order to join the gentlemen of the party. As he followed the servant across the gravel path of the garden, and drew near the group of young cavaliers, he became aware that, amidst loud laughter, they were shooting at small yellowish quoits, which at every shot flew into the air and mostly fell to pieces before the bullet had even touched them.
These quoits were thin slices of Gruyere cheese (somewhat crumbly from the dry air), which with other good things had been supplied for the young gentlemen's six-o'clock light refreshment, but as the appetite necessary for their enjoyment was lacking, they had been turned to another purpose.
Bets were concluded, books made, forfeits paid, false starts announced just as if they were on the racecourse.
Leo stepped into the circle, which respectfully opened to admit him. He belonged to an older generation than these scatter-brains, the oldest of whom had not passed the first third of his twenties. In consequence he did not "know" any of them, and had indeed scarcely set eyes on them since they had left school. After they had greeted him with astonished respect, a laughing babel of voices began to explain to him the newly invented sport.
He took them in one by one when they were not looking. So it was in the society of these cheese-shooters that she had sought and found enjoyment? How infamous! and, what was more, how ridiculous!
Lothair Stolt, as son of the house, invited him to take part in the game; he himself offered to give up one of the favourites, which had already been heavily backed, because it was certain not to fall to pieces before it was shot at.
Leo expressed his thanks, and said that he was a novice in this art.
"But you can shoot?" asked the young master of Zesslingen.