‘And whether my prayer be granted,
Or whether she pass me by,
The face of that gentle maiden
Will follow me till I die.’”
Brand turned over the songs, and suddenly I saw his face flush, and I knew the reason. He had come to the German songs on which was written the name of Franz von Kreuzenach.
He turned them over quickly, but Eileen pulled one out—it was a Schubert song—and opened its leaves.
“That was the man who saved my life.”
She spoke without embarrassment, simply.
“Yes,” said Brand. “He suppressed the evidence.”