"How do you do, my dear fellow!" said a voice beside him, and a little man popped up in front of him, holding his hat high above his bald head--his sharp little face beaming with friendliness. Linden bowed. Uncle Henry carelessly touched the brim of his hat.
"How do you come to know this Wolff?" he asked, looking after the man, who was winding his way sinuously in and out among the crowd. "He is a fellow who would spoil my appetite if I met him before dinner."
"I am or rather was connected with him by business, through my old uncle--he had money from him on a mortgage on Niendorf," explained Linden.
"From that cravat-manufacturer? The old man was not very wise."
Linden did not reply. They had just turned into a quiet side-street.
"Does he still hold the mortgage?" asked Mr. Baumhagen.
"No, my friend's sister has taken it."
"Indeed! Why did you not come to me about it? You could have had some of Gertrude's money--"
Frank Linden made a gesture of refusal.
"Oh--I promised the child; she has authorized me to put a certain capital at your disposal," explained the old gentleman.