As Wilhelm did not immediately answer, Paul said, seizing his hand:
"Once more, Wilhelm, if you have any thought of Malvine, I will not stand in your way."
"But, Paul—"
"And perhaps I ought to wish it for you; Malvine is a good, dear girl, and will make the man who marries her happy all his life."
"Don't say any more; I have already told you that she is sacred to me as your fiancee, and beside, I should have no claim on her, even if I did not know how you stand with regard to her."
"Well, then, you must help me to reclaim her from her mistake. You alone can do it, and I am sure that later—very soon, in fact, she will be grateful to you."
Wilhelm was silent, looking at Paul in anxious suspense. At last, with a deep sigh, he said:
"Well, if I must—-"
"You are a brick," cried Paul, and embraced him before the passers-by, who turned round to look at them with astonishment.
On the next day, at twelve o'clock, Wilhelm rang at the Markers' flat in the Lutzowstrasse. Through the little peephole he caught a glimpse of some one, then the door flew open, a maid ushered him into the drawing-room, and without waiting for him to speak, said: