“She told me,” answered Brand. “I saw some of your songs in her room.”
“Yes, I sang to her.”
Franz von Kreuzenach laughed awkwardly. Then suddenly a look of something like fear—certainly alarm—changed his expression.
“I must beg of you to keep secret any knowledge of my—my friendship—with that lady. She acted—rashly. If it were known, even by my father, that I did—what I did—my honour, perhaps even my life, would be unsafe. You understand, I am sure.”
“Perfectly,” said Brand.
“As a German officer,” said Franz von Kreuzenach, “I took great risk.”
He emphasised his words.
“As a German officer I took liberties with my duty—because of a higher law.”
“A higher law than discipline,” said Brand. “Perhaps a nobler duty than the code of a German officer.”
He spoke with a touch of irony, but Franz von Kreuzenach was unconscious of that.