"But, sir, it is impossible. Kaulmann knew perfectly that nothing here was his property."
"I am sure of that. It was gross negligence on your lawyer's side; he should have protected your interests better. Every one knows that Kaulmann brought the goods here; it was supposed that he bought them. In any case, he cannot testify in your favor. A misfortune has happened to him. When he saw that the police were after him he jumped out of the railway-carriage he was in. Unfortunately, he broke his neck and died immediately."
Eveline fell back upon the sofa and hid her face in her hands.
"If you wish to shed a few tears to the memory of Kaulmann I will retire to the window," remarked Prince Waldemar, with ironical courtesy.
Eveline made him no answer. In her mind everything was in confusion; she could think of nothing. Let everything go; what did it matter? Should she institute a law-suit to recover her property? Should she bring witnesses to prove that this ornament, these costly hangings, these rich carpets were not the property of her husband, but the gifts to her from a gray-beard—the most upright, the dearest of men, a Hungarian magnate, who had adopted her, an actress, to be his own child, with no self-seeking, no sinful gratification, but out of pure affection? No one would credit her story. She would tell it to no one. She would not subject the name of her benefactor to the jeers and laughter of the incredulous. Sooner let everything go.
"I am not weeping, sir," she said to the prince. "If you have anything further to tell me I am ready to listen."
"I could tell you many other unfortunate circumstances," returned Waldemar, leaning against the fireplace with the silver grate. "For one thing, Prince Theobald, your former patron, has been placed by his family under legal restraint, and cannot take any active part in the affairs of this world."
"I know that."
"The shares which he took as a provision for you in the Bondavara Company have been also sequestrated by law."
"That has been told to me already."