His speech was apparently dispassionate, and his arguments were set forth clearly and objectively. But his voice vibrated, as with suppressed grief, a bitter appeal, and inner distress. His noble, quiet countenance seemed to convey a silent plaint, but the speech of his eyes was eloquent. They expressed entreaty, enthusiasm, and hope.
Mr. Benas was lost in thought, while Hugo impulsively clasped his friend's hand.
The suspense and excitement that had taken hold of all was broken only when Mrs. Benas asked them to think of more material matters, and invited them to take a glass of beer or wine and a sandwich. The clever woman had waited for the right moment. They chatted yet a while of indifferent matters. Somewhat later, when Dr. Weilen found himself alone with Rita, he asked: "Who is this Dr. Rosenfeld?"
"A student friend of Hugo's. Hugo brought him here, and he has become a favorite of all of us."
"Of you, too, Rita?"
"Yes," she said simply.
Her candor pleased him. "Have you been with him much?"
"He became my friend, especially during the last few months, when he gave me lessons in philosophy, and introduced me to the ideas of the great thinkers."
"He loves you, Rita?"
She looked at him with moist eyes, and said in a low voice: "He has never told me so."