"Then, of course, you are intimate with him," she said. "Intimate enough, perhaps, to ask a favor or to introduce a friend?"
I made a futile attempt to answer this cautiously.
"As intimate, madam, as a young clerk in the business can hope to be with a partner," I said.
"A clerk in the business?" she repeated. "I thought you lived in London, with your aunt."
Here Minna interposed for the first time.
"You forget, mamma, that there are three names in the business. The inscription over the door in Main Street is Wagner, Keller, and Engelman. Fritz once told me that the office here in Frankfort was only the small office—and the grand business was Mr. Wagner's business in London. Am I right, Mr. David?"
"Quite right, Miss Minna. But we have no such magnificent flower-garden at the London house as Mr. Engelman's flower-garden here. May I offer you a nosegay which he allowed me to gather?"
I had hoped to make the flowers a means of turning the conversation to more interesting topics. But the widow resumed her questions, while Minna was admiring the flowers.
"Then you are Mr. Wagner's clerk?" she persisted.
"I was Mr. Wagner's clerk. Mr. Wagner is dead."