"Nevertheless, my nephew, all the winter through your Berlin successes were dinned into my ears. They did not spare me. I knew you were dancing with our fair enemies. I knew their names."
"Oh, I beg you," said Jean seriously, "do not let us joke about these questions—like people who dare not face them and give their opinion. I have had a different education from yours, it is true, uncle—a German education. But that does not diminish my love for this country; on the contrary...."
M. Ulrich stretched his hand across the table and pressed that of Jean.
"So much the better," he said.
"I did not doubt it, my child—I did not know. I see so many things that pain me—and so many convictions surrendered."
"The proof that I love our Alsace is shown by my intention to live in Alsheim."
"What!" said M. Ulrich, stupefied. "You give up the idea of entering the German Administration—as your father desires you should do? It is grave—a serious thing, my friend, to rob him of his ambition. You were the subject of the future. Does he know?"
"He suspects; but we have not yet had any explanations on the matter. I have not had time since my return."
"And what will you do?"