Bofinger took a sudden deep breath and turned again to the window with the involuntary distaste of one who wishes to avoid the resurrection of a disagreeable memory. The movement told all to his companion, the bitterness, the humiliation, and the never-ending sting.
"What! Haven't you any curiosity," he persisted.
"No," Bofinger said without looking at him, "I don't care to hear either. All that is over. I botched the job—I got what I deserved."
"You did not understand him," Groll answered.
"He was crazy—mad," Bofinger said bitterly.
"We call mad what we can't understand," Groll objected slowly. "So you don't care what became of him?"
"I do not."
"He died three weeks after his appearance in the court."
"Who told you that?"
"I was interested in the case," Groll repeated softly.