"
"Well, my reception was ungracious enough. Your aunt seemed to think at
first that I was a full-fledged brigand."
"But it only took ten minutes to win her smiles and make you a declared
favorite. What is it you have about you, old fellow, which wins on every
one? It makes one believe in the old fable of the rat-catcher."
The old scornful expression, which effaced all his beauty, swept across
Hartmut's face now, as he said contemptuously:
"I understand how to sing to tickle the ears of my hearers. You have to
strike the chords according to the taste of your listener, but after you
have learned that secret no one can withstand you."
"No one?" repeated Egon, as his eye glanced over the room.
"No, not a single soul, I assure you."
"Oh, you're a pessimist with all your inferences. I only wish I knew
where Frau von Wallmoden was, but I don't see her in any place."
"His excellency was reading her a little sermon on her undiplomatic
utterances in the other room a short time ago."
"Why, did you hear what she said?" asked Egon, surprised.
"Certainly, I was standing by the door."
"Well, I'm glad enough my worshipful aunt was given a snub, and wasn't
she furious over it, though; but do you believe that the ambassador
would take his wife to task for--hush, here he is himself.
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