"Fourteen years to-night, Velasco, and I feel as if it were yesterday."
The Violinist shaded his eyes from the light as if it hurt him: "When you came back," he said, "When you found out—what was it you felt, love or hate?"
The Kapellmeister made a swift, repelling gesture as if some reptile had touched him: "Love!" he cried, "Hate! Velasco—man, there is many a sin at my door; I am far from a saint heaven knows; but to deceive one who has trusted—to desert one who has loved and been loyal! God! There is no worse crime than that, or more despicable! Can one love, or hate, where there is only contempt?"
He clenched his fist, and his eyes were like two sword points boring into the face opposite.
"Contempt—" he said, "It has eaten into my heart like a poisonous drug and killed all else. There is nothing left."
The Kapellmeister took a long breath, then he continued hoarsely: "But I am a man; with a woman it is different. Her heart is young and she knows nothing of the world. It is like a stab in the dark from a hand she loves, and her heart is torn. If she is brave, facing the world with a smile on her lips, she bleeds inwardly. She is like a swan, swooping in circles lower and lower, with a song in her throat, until the great wings droop, and the eyes grow dim, and she falls finally, and the song is stilled. But the last beat of her heart and the last echo of her voice is for him—for him who fired the shot in her breast!"
He half rose in his seat with his hands trembling, and then sank back again.
"Have you ever loved a woman and left her, Velasco? Tell me—have you a deed like that on your conscience?"
"I—?" The Musician laughed aloud and took his hand from his face: "You are talking in riddles, Kapellmeister! The beer has gone to your head, and you are drunk! Look at the clock over yonder!— What is love? A will-o'-the-wisp! You chase it and it eludes you; you clasp it and it melts into air! There is nothing in life, I tell you, but music and work."
He poured out another glass of the wine: "Here's to your health, Kapellmeister! Prosit—my friend! Put those grim thoughts from your mind, and women from your heart. We must be off."