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Updated: June 12, 2025


Furst was in his usual state of agitation lest his friend should forget to keep the appointment; and the spirits of those there were several such present who suffered almost physical pain from seeing another than themselves the centre of interest, went up by leaps and bounds. But at this juncture, Schilsky's voice was heard in the next room. It was raised and angry; it snarled at a waiter.

At other times, this jealous unrest was not the bitterest drop in his cup; it was bitterer to know that she was squandering her love on one who was unworthy of it. At first, from a feeling of exaggerated delicacy, he had gone out of his way to escape hearing Schilsky's name; but this mood passed, and gave place to an undignified hankering to learn everything he could, concerning the young man.

Again he looked round the table with emphasis, and those who had their muscles sufficiently under control, hastened to lay their faces in seemly folds. Then, however, Schilsky's mood changed; he struck the table so that the glasses danced. "And shall I tell you what my reward has been for not going? Do you want to know how Lulu has treated me for staying on here?

Through a kind of mist, Maurice saw that Ephie's face still wore a hostile look; and she hardly moved her lips when she bade him good-night. Madeleine drew her own conclusions as she walked the rest of the way home between two pale and silent people. She had seen, on coming out of the theatre, that Louise was in one of her bad moods a fact easily to be accounted for by Schilsky's absence.

But he was too down-hearted at what he had learnt in the course of the evening, to rise to any active feeling of dislike. Intermittently he heard, in spite of himself, something of Schilsky's music; but he was not in a frame of mind to understand or to retain any impression of it.

Not having heard a note of Schilsky's playing, Maurice did not trust himself to say much, and so was free to observe his right-hand neighbour, a young man who had entered late, and taken a vacant chair beside him.

The latter was almost an hour late by now, and jests, bald and witty, were made at his expense. Some one offered to take a bet that he had fallen asleep and forgotten the appointment, and at this, one of the girls on the bed, a handsome creature with bold, prominent eyes, related an anecdote to her neighbours, concerning Schilsky's powers of sleep. All three exploded with laughter.

"PARDON!" said Krafft; his flushed, transparent cheeks were aglow, his limpid eyes shone like stars. "Do you mean Lulu?" Maurice grew pale. "Mind what you're saying!" Krafft took a gulp of beer. "Are you afraid of the truth? But just one word, and I'm done. You no doubt knew, as every one else did, that Lulu was Schilsky's mistress.

Nothing more had come to light; no one had hinted by a word at Schilsky's departure; it might yet prove to be all a mistake. Then, however, he received a postcard from Madeleine, saying that she had something interesting to tell him. He went too early, and spent a quarter of an hour pacing her room.

And security, which stales. And custom, which satiates. Oh no, I am not for matrimony!" Schilsky's ill-humour evaporated in a peal of boisterous laughter. "Yes, and tell us why, chaste Joseph, tell us why," he cried, throwing a brush at his friend. "Or go to the devil where you're at home." Krafft warded off the brush. "Look here," he said, "confess. Have you kissed another girl for months?

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