"Do you call the crowd of coarse flatterers, who once surrounded me, warm-hearted people?" she asked in a tone of disdain.
"If you found none such amongst them, I must lament that they kept all such from your side. For no man of sincere and warm heart could approach you as long as you were surrounded by such a throng."
The countess rose from the sofa, upon which she had thrown herself. "I sent them from me long ago: there is nothing to prevent the approach of any man of noble character,--but none such attempt it,--I must go half-way to seek them."
Johannes was silent. The conversation was an infinite weariness to him: he had need of all his chivalry to enable him to endure it with becoming patience.
"You are out of spirits, Dr. Möllner. Am I the cause of it?"
"What a question, countess! Could I say yes, even if you were? I must have been guilty of great rudeness towards you, if you can suspect me of such gaucherie."
"I certainly cannot boast of any exaggerated courtesy from you."
"I never force upon others what can have no possible value for them," said Johannes coldly.
The countess bit her lip. "Is that meant for me?"
"I do not see how. I said nothing that could in any way apply to you."