"Marie——"
The girl started vaguely.
"Come and greet the Herr Doctor Holtzenschuer."
She rose lightly from her place and came across the room. A soft curl, blown by the wind, drifted across her flushes as she came.
The young man sprang to his feet. His heels clicked again as he bent low before her.
She descended in a shy courtesy and glanced inquiringly at her grandmother.
The old woman nodded curtly. "Go on with your papers," she said.
The girl turned again to the green window. Her head bowed itself above the papers.
The young man's eyes followed them. He turned to the old woman beside him. "Is it something about—the picture?" he asked.
She nodded sharply. "Private papers of Willibald Pirkheimer," she said, "ancestor of the von Herkomers—sixteenth century. He was a friend of Dürer's." Her lips closed crisply on the words.