Chapter VIII
The next morning Merle was alone in the pantry when she heard steps behind her, and turned her head. It was Klaus Brock.
“Good-morning, madam—ah! so this is what you look like in morning dress. Why, morning neglige might have been invented for you, if I may say so. You might be a Ghirlandajo. Or no, better still, Aspasia herself.”
“You are up early,” said Merle drily.
“Am I? What about Ferdinand Holm then? He has been up since sunrise, sitting over his letters and accounts. Anything I can help you with? May I move that cheese for you?—Well, well! you are strong. But there, I’m always de trop where women are concerned.”
“Always de trop?” repeated Merle, watching him through her long lashes.
“Yes—my first and only love—do you know who she was?”
“No, indeed. How should I?”
“Well, it was Louise—Peer’s little sister. I wish you could have known her.”