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Updated: July 8, 2025
Falkenried's lips trembled, and bitter words were on them; he felt like telling his son, once for all, that his honor had demanded the separation; but he looked in his child's dark, questioning eyes, and the words died on his lips. He could not betray the mother to her son. "Let that question rest," he said gloomily. "Perhaps later, you may learn to appreciate my reasons.
Then laying her hand on her brother's arm, she said in conclusion: "Perhaps you are right, Herbert, when you say that a man chooses more wisely when he has come to years of discretion. You need not fear Falkenried's fate; your wife has good blood in her veins. I knew Herr Stahlberg well; he worked earnestly and with capability, too, or he would never have succeeded as he did in life.
I declare I never have been able to understand it." Falkenried's lips were drawn in with a bitter smile. "I can readily believe that you, the cool, calculating diplomat, you, whose every word is weighed, are protected against all such witcheries." "I should at least be cautious in my choice. Your marriage carried unhappiness on its face from the very beginning.
A shadow darkened Falkenried's face, but he did not unclasp the arms which held his son. "Your mother will leave Germany as soon as she learns that she must keep aloof from you," he said, this time without harshness, but most decisively. "You may write her that I will allow you to correspond with her under certain conditions, but I cannot nor dare not allow any personal intercourse."
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