Hardly can permission to remain be given in a colder tone. But Linda replies with astonishing aplomb, "Neither do I," and has a sweet, naïve smile for the Countess, and for Pistasch, on the contrary, a comical, expressive glance which delights him. He finds it quite in order that she should refresh herself with a little impertinence. "She is piquant as an actress," he thinks.
Then the door opens; unannounced, like very old friends, a lady and gentleman enter. She, small, fat, lively, cries out, hurrying up to the Countess, "We flee to thee, Mimi, the rain has surprised us. Ah, you have guests--how are you, Elsa? do I really see you at last?"
He, tall, thin, with a Velasquez nose, Don Quixote manner, and arrogant eyes, looking out through glasses, has meanwhile chivalrously kissed the hand of the Countess. Now he looks round, recognizes Erwin, greets him heartily, comes up to Felix, starts slightly, goes past him to Rhoeden, as if he had never seen Felix in his life before.
Felix stands motionless, ashy, rigid, with bluish lips and half-closed eyes. Scirocco has lived through many unpleasant moments, but never a more painful one. Still he rapidly collects himself, takes the new guest by both shoulders and turns him toward Felix.
"That is Lanzberg. Did you not recognize him, Max?" he cries.
After that nothing remains for Count L---- but to murmur in apology, so as not to insult the guests of the house in which he is, "I am so near-sighted," and to stretch out two arrogant fingers to Felix.
"Order the carriage, Rudi," begs Felix, very hoarsely.
Linda, who has not noticed the little scene, gives Pistasch a glance at the interruption of their tête-à-tête, which flatters his vanity.
XVI.
"You have slept badly, mouse; look at your poor eyes. You worry me, you pale person."