“I suppose so.”
“And not a desirable one, that is manifest.”
“Hardly, perhaps.”
“The son of a powerful man.”
“The Chancellor Rollmar; yes.”
“The story is plain. You may correct me if I have it wrongly. The Rollmar needs but to ask and have. To avoid the indignity of such a disposal, to say nothing of a, perhaps natural, preference, you take to flight with a lover of your own choosing. Your friend goes with you, to play propriety, no doubt.”
Ruperta loathed the half-veiled insolence of his examination, but, at least, it was gaining time and keeping him from a more dangerous subject.
“It was only natural,” she said, “that I should have a friend of my own sex with me.”
“Quite natural,” he smiled. “And the big captain? Ah, of course, he played coachman. The Lieutenant might have chosen a lighter Jehu from among his trusty friends. Or perhaps there was a tenderness between him and Fräulein Minna? It is scarcely surprising that your carriage broke down. Still, it is not for me, of all men, to complain of that. Nor shall it be my fault if you regret it long.”
Every moment her hatred of the man and his scoffing manner increased; but, at least so far, it was harmless.