"None whatever."
"Wine, then?"
"Absolutely not. All drinking, except of water, is forbidden."
The count rose and stood erect. His figure seemed to regain all its old-time Prussian rigidity. He extended his hand.
"My friend," he said. "I bid you farewell."
"Where are you going to?" I asked.
"My choice is made," said Von Boobenstein. "There are worse things than death. I am about to surrender myself to the German authorities."