Laura suddenly became thoughtful. She swung the gold knob of her white sunshade and looked as if she were making calculations. She always did this when she was serious.
Stellan had got his papers and the steel lid of his safe closed with a bang:
“You needn’t say anything definite now,” he said. “I will arrange a family dinner out there when your husband comes. My man will have to clean up a little, as best he can. And on a fine summer evening Selambshof doesn’t look so bad.... Well, we shall see.”
Laura nodded silently. As a matter of fact over there in the East she had boasted a little of her social relations. Count von Borgk had perhaps partly married her in order to be introduced to the aristocratic circles of Sweden. And that is why she wanted Selambshof to appear as attractive as possible.
They left the vault.
Up in the bank they met Levy with a black portfolio under his arm and surrounded by a crowd of business friends. He was pale, handsome, and still wore his old exquisitely ironical expression. He hurried up and bowed to Laura.
“Congratulations, Countess von Borgk! Is it true what people say, that you won your husband at roulette?”
Levy was his old self.
Laura tapped him on the shoulders with her sunshade and laughed unconcernedly. But Stellan looked stiffly after the Jew as he disappeared in eager discussion with his company.
Sister and brother stopped for a moment at the corner before they said good-bye: