'How does your Excellency stand with the Count Sulkowski?' whispered Henniche. 'One must not forget that the sun sets, that the people are mortal, that the sons succeed the fathers, and Sulkowski the Brühls.'
'Oh!' said Brühl, 'he is my friend.'
'I would prefer that his wife was your Excellency's friend,' said Henniche. 'I put more faith in her.'
'Sulkowski has a noble heart.'
'I don't deny it, but the best heart prefers the chest in which it beats. And how about the Count Moszynski?'
Brühl shivered and blushed: looked at Henniche sharply, as though he would learn whether he mentioned the name with any design. But Henniche's face was placid and indifferent.
'The Count Moszynski is of no importance whatever,' hissed Brühl, 'and he never shall be of any importance.'
'His Majesty gave him his own daughter,' said Henniche slowly.
Brühl was silent.
'The people have evil tongues,' continued Henniche. 'They say that Fräulein Cosel would have preferred to marry someone else than Moszynski.'