Then somebody whom Erika did not know exclaimed, "Where is Lozoncyi? He knows more of the subject than we do; he ought to be able to help us."
"I think his knowledge is practical rather than theoretical," said Count Treurenberg.
Not long afterwards a few guests took leave, as it was growing late. The circle was smaller, and Erika discovered Lozoncyi seated on a lounge between two ladies, Frau von Geroldstein and the Princess Gregoriewitsch. The Princess was a beauty in her way, tall, stout, very décolletée, and with long, languishing eyes. Lozoncyi was leaning towards her, and whispering in her ear.
Erika rose with a sensation of disgust and walked out upon a balcony, where she had scarcely cast a glance upon the veiled magnificence of the opposite palaces when Lozoncyi stood beside her. "Good-evening, Countess. I had no idea that you were here; I discovered you only this moment."
In her irritated mood she did not offer him her hand. "You are astonished that my grandmother should have brought me here," she said, with a shrug.
But, to her surprise, she perceived that nothing of the kind had occurred to him: his sense of what was going on about him was evidently blunted.
"Why?" he asked. "Because--because of the antecedents of the hostess? It is long since people have troubled themselves about those, and it is the brightest salon in Venice."
"There has certainly been nothing lacking in the way of animation to-night," Erika observed, coldly.
She was leaning with both hands on the balustrade of the balcony, and she spoke to him over her shoulder. He cared little for what she said, but her beauty intoxicated him. Always strongly influenced by his surroundings, the least noble part of his nature had the upper hand with him to-night.
"Rosenberg has taken great pains to entertain his audience," he remarked, carelessly.