After a while he began again:
"You know that old Hammer died?"
"Poor Hammer," I said. "And Doblana?"
"I don't know."
There was another silence. How exhausted he looked! And I had sworn that I would avenge myself on him.
"Giulay is married," he whispered.
Evidently he wanted to speak about my Viennese acquaintances. But what could it matter to me whether Giulay was married? Was it to Fanny? I wondered. The answer to my mute question came soon.
"To Mitzi."
Giulay and Mitzi! So they had both been satisfied with remnants ... he with what Franz, and she with what Fanny had left. Such was the end of my Austrian Love.
Again there was a silence. Longer, deeper than before. His breath was difficult, already rattling in his throat. But after a while he seemed once more to find a little strength.