Von Engel's servant, under pretext of arranging the collar of his master's cloak, here whispered peremptorily to him, and the officer started with a hurried "Yes, yes!" to his servant.
They bent and kissed our hands, and Von Furzmann, in the violence of his emotion, flung his arms around Jimmie and kissed him on the cheek. Then they dashed away down the long corridor, looking back and waving their hands to us.
Jimmie came into the room with his hand on the spot where Von Furzmann had kissed him.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he said. "That was all your fault," he added, looking at Bee.
"I've always said somebody would steal you, Jimmie!" I said.
"Did you enjoy yourself, dear?" asked Mrs. Jimmie kindly of Bee.
Bee stood up yawning.
"Oh, I don't know," she said. "These officers try to be so impressive. They urge you to take a little more pepper in the same tone that they would ask you to elope."
Jimmie beamed on her.
When Bee and I were alone, I dropped limply on the bed. Bee turned to the light and read a crumpled note which Von Furzmann had thrust into her hand at parting. She handed it to me: