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Updated: May 28, 2025
Herr Freudenberg, with a smile, rose up and tried the door. Then he returned to his place, lit a cigarette, and leaned back in his chair. "My dear friends," he announced, "now we can talk." Monsieur Pelleman smiled. "Yes," he admitted, "we can talk. In this excellent brandy, Monsieur Carl Freudenberg, I drink your very good health. Long may these little visits of yours continue."
There was no possible indication in his appearance of his misspent hours. He was at once a genial and courteous host. Monsieur Decheles sat at his right hand; Monsieur Felix Brant on his left; Monsieur Pelleman opposite to him.
I ask you to apply only a reasonable measure of philosophy and common sense, a reasonable measure of faith, to the things I say." There was a cautious tap at the door, a whispered message. Monsieur Pelleman rose. "It is my secretary," he announced. "I fear, gentlemen, that we are due elsewhere."
Herr Freudenberg smiled his thanks. "Monsieur Pelleman," he said, "and you, too, my dear friends, let me assure you that there is nothing in the world which I enjoy so much as these brief visits of mine to your delightful capital. No more I think of the pressures and cares of office.
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