“Sigmund also,” was all he said.
But “auch Sigmund” may express much more in German than in English. It did so then.
“And you?” he added.
“I am alone,” said I.
I did not mean to be foolishly sentimental. The sigh that followed my words was involuntary.
“So you are. But I suppose you like it?”
“Like it? What can make you think so?”
“Well, at least you have good friends.”
“Have I? Oh, yes, of course!” said I, thinking of von Francius.
“Do you get on with your music?” he next inquired.