“It would charm me to be the medium of bringing our much-honoured guest into friendship with the Herr Rittmeister. My friend Von Orsova of a certainty comes to my rooms here to conclude the evening and drink a glass of wine. If Herr Tyrrell would honour me likewise?”
I thanked him and accepted.
“That will be capital,” my partner said. “You can discuss arms and horses, and enflame your martial spirits over some of the Royal Steinberger Cabinet.”
“I can answer for the quality of the wine,” Eilhardt returned. “The dance is nearly at an end; we keep early hours in Buyda. I cannot leave until his Majesty retires. But if you will meet me here ten minutes after the King’s departure, I shall do myself the honour to conduct you to my apartment.”
I agreed, and with a flourish he left us, swaggering off towards the royal party.
“It is just as well to have a quiet chat with Von Orsova,” Fräulein von Winterstein observed. “He is too fond of the dance to say many words to one here.”
“To a man.”
“Bien entendu. He is a perfect waltzer.”
“Happy partners!”
“Take care.”