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Werner, E., 1838-1918

"The Northern Light"

He felt keenly the sentence
which lay in them. And Aunt Regine, too, the woman who had once shown an
almost motherly affection for him, she turned her back on him as if
ashamed of her first impulse to speak to him. That was too much!
"Oh, here you are at last," sounded Egon's voice from the door. "You
disappeared most mysteriously. Well, did you find your pocket-book?"
Hartmut turned toward his friend; he felt he must be on his guard.
"Yes," he said absently. "I found it on the stair, as I expected."
"You might as well have let the watchman get it for you. But why didn't
you come back? 'Twas very shabby of you to desert Frau von Wallmoden and
me. You have not, I fear, won the lovely lady's favor. You were most
ungracious."
"I shall have to endure my misfortune as best I can," said Hartmut with
a shrug.
The young prince came nearer, and laid his hand affectionately on his
shoulder.
"Or perhaps you incurred her displeasure day before yesterday? It is not
your wont to go off on a tangent when you are conversing with a charming
woman. O, I know all about it; the baroness thought fit to reprove you
for your attack on Germany, and you resented it. Now, a man should agree
to everything which comes from such lips."
"You seem to be quite excited," sneered Hartmut.


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