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Updated: June 20, 2025
She was of slight, graceful figure, wore a dark, fur-trimmed mantle with cap and muff to match, and was glancing over a roll of manuscript as she stepped quickly forward. Suddenly she gave a surprised cry, which had anything but a joyful sound, as the young man stepped in front of her. "Oh, Count Westerburg." The man bowed low as he exclaimed: "What a happy accident!
"You are accustomed to receive gifts of flowers," he said almost apologetically. "I hear from all sides how much homage is paid you." The young girl smiled, but smiled more sadly than joyfully. "You have seen what manner of homage is done me at times," she said. "Count Westerburg is not the first against whom I have had to contend.
But what have you to do with the opera singer, Marietta Volkmar, who has always posed as a very mirror of virtue?" "Hartmut, have a care. You must speak respectfully of this lady to me. To make a long story short, this Count Westerburg has challenged me, and we're going to have a shot at one another, and I sincerely hope I'll leave him with a remembrance he won't soon forget."
"Herr von Eschenhagen you?" Count Westerburg had in the meantime risen with some difficulty, and now advanced threateningly toward his new enemy. "Sir, what do you mean by this? Who has given you the right who has given you the right " "Stay where you are!
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