“I vas not too free, too undignified in presence of zat innocent and charming lady—Miss Gallosh?”
The air of scrutiny passed from Count Bunker's face, and a droll smile came instead.
“Baron, I understand your ideals and I appreciate your motives. As you suggest, you had better rehearse your part quietly for a few days. Miss Maddison will find you the more perfect suitor.”
The Baron looked as though he knew not whether to feel satisfied or not.
“By the way,” said the Count in a moment, “have you written to the Baroness yet? Pardon me for reminding you, but you must remember that your letters will have to go out to Russia and back.”
The Baron started.
“Teufel!” he exclaimed. “I most indeed write.”
“The post goes at twelve.”
The Baron reflected gloomily, and then slowly moved to the writing-table and toyed with his pen. A few minutes passed, and then in a fretful voice he asked—
“Vat shall I say?”