"Yes, us. Sidonie and me. You seem to have forgotten entirely that the Major came at your request. At first he sat opposite me, and I may say, incidentally, that it was indeed an uncomfortable seat on that miserable narrow strip, but when the Grasenabbs came up and took Sidonie, and our sleigh suddenly drove on, I suppose you expected that I should ask him to get out? That would have made a laughing stock of me, and you know how sensitive you are on that point. Remember, we have ridden horseback many times together, with your consent, and now you don't think I should ride in the same vehicle with him. It is wrong, we used to say at home, to mistrust a nobleman."
"A nobleman," said Innstetten with emphasis.
"Isn't he one? You yourself called him a cavalier, a perfect cavalier, in fact."
"Yes," continued Innstetten, his tone growing more friendly, though it still betrayed a slight shade of sarcasm. "A cavalier he is, and a perfect cavalier, that is beyond dispute. But nobleman? My dear Effi, a nobleman has a different look. Have you ever noticed anything noble about him? Not I."
Effi stared at the ground and kept silent.
"It seems we are of the same opinion. But, as you said, I myself am to blame. I don't care to speak of a faux pas; it is not the right word in this connection. I assume the blame, and it shall not occur again, if I can prevent it. But you will be on your guard, too, if you heed my advice. He is coarse and has designs of his own on young women. I knew him of old."
"I shall remember what you say. But just one thing—I believe you misunderstand him."
"I do not misunderstand him."
"Or me," she said, with all the force at her command, and attempted to meet his gaze.
"Nor you either, my dear Effi. You are a charming little woman, but persistence is not exactly your specialty."