It was in the middle of the afternoon that the meeting terminated. When Johann Stryj and his companion had taken their departure Frederick von Berger turned to the silent ex-Captain-General. His eyes were speculative. It was the cold calculation of a mind seeking to complete a half-formed train of thought.
"What were your relations with this woman—before the war?"
Von Salzinger started. A flush tinted his heavy features a sort of copper hue.
"I—don't understand, Excellency."
That odd flicker of the eyelids which seemed to be the only indication of a lighter mood accompanied Von Berger's next words.
"Yet it is not difficult. Information tells us that you at one time sought to marry her. Since coming to England you renewed your acquaintance. I desire the exact explanation. I may need to use the—relationship."
The flush had left the other's cheeks. His eyes took on a smile of meaning.
"At one time I had such thoughts. Now I have no desire to—marry her."
"Ah!"
Von Berger had faced round from the library table at which he was seated, and, crossing his legs, sat contemplatively with his elbows supported on the arms of his chair and his chin resting upon his clasped hands.