Herr von Wroblewski cleared his throat. "Well, then, we shall give no one occasion to say we are revengeful. An oral apology will suffice. We will invite a few gentlemen. Count Agenor can come to us, and--" The baron came to a stop. Herr von Wroblewski cleared his throat louder than ever.
"Or--h'm--! We won't invite any one--or we could meet here! You, Wladko, the count, and myself, quite informally. He could just mutter something, as, 'I did not intend to give offence, etc.' They would shake hands, and--"
Herr von Wroblewski was seized with a severe fit of coughing.
"D---- it all!" swore the old gentleman, wiping the perspiration from his face. "We cannot make it easier. We couldn't go to him, so that he could say the few words. Or--h'm!--do you think we could?"
"It would be very unusual," said the magistrate again, sober as the grave.
"Unusual! That does not matter! Mon Dieu! Everything must be done for the first time. My dear friend, I beg of you, I implore you to--"
"I will do my best," promised Wroblewski, and he kept his word. He went to the count the very next day, and laughingly laid the proposition before him. Agenor laughed aloud.
"It is impossible. I am an officer. No matter what I said to the boy, it would be regarded as an apology."
"But you don't thirst for his blood. Just consider--a young fellow excited by champagne, and she a Jewess!"
"He met her as your guest."