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Miss Seyffert had revealed a plump forearm and proclaimed it with a clash of bangles. Dr. Martineau thought her evening throat much too confidential. The conversation drifted from topic to topic. It had none of the steady continuity of Sir Richmond's duologue with Miss Grammont. Miss Seyffert's methods were too discursive and exclamatory. She broke every thread that appeared.
In order to recover from his infatuation, to learn what Louise really was, it had only been necessary for Maurice to be constantly at her side. Was it not Goethe who said that the way to cure a bad habit was to indulge it? But a few days afterwards, her satisfaction was damped. Late one afternoon she had entered Seyffert's Cafe, to drink a cup of chocolate.
Here, however, they all turned in to Seyffert's Cafe and, seating themselves at a long, narrow table, waited for Schilsky, whom they intended to fete. But minutes passed, a quarter, then half of an hour, and still he did not come. To while the time, his playing of the concerto was roundly commented and discussed.
"And matters are simplified by that very fact. I can give you his address, Lulu." "Go away! I may hurt you. I could kill you. Go away!" "And this," said Krafft, as he put on his coat again, "is how a woman listens quietly. Well, Lulu, think it over. A word at any time will bring me, if you change your mind." One evening, about a week later, Maurice entered Seyffert's Cafe.
It was close on nine o'clock, and Seyffert's was crowded with its usual guests young people, who had escaped from more or less dingy rooms to the warmth and light of the cafe, where the yellow blinds were drawn against the inclement night.
On entering Seyffert's one afternoon, he espied Dove, who had just returned. Dove sat alone at a small table, reading the TAGEBLATT; before him stood a cup of cocoa. When he saw Maurice, he raised the newspaper a trifle higher, so that it covered the level of his eyes. But Maurice went across the room, and touched him on the shoulder.
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