All in vain! Nothing affected this icy nature. Hartmut stamped his foot
in a fury. Scarcely fifteen minutes ago he had asserted to Prince Egon
that he could sing to please the ear of any woman. Now he had sung again
that song which never before had failed him, and all to no purpose. But
this proud, arrogant man could not believe that the game which he so
often won had been lost this time, and in this knowledge lay his
determination to win yet at all hazards.
And should it only remain a game? He had not called himself to account
as yet, but in the intense interest which this beautiful woman excited
within him, there was a strong mixture of hate. There had been an
antagonistic feeling on that first day in the wood, and since then he
had been repelled and attracted by turns; it was just that which spurred
him on.
Love, the holy, pure significance of that word, was a stranger to the
heart of Zalika's son. He had learned much that was harmful at the side
of his mother, who had made such a shameless spectacle of her own
husband's love; and the many women who were her companions and
associates in her Roumanian home, but echoed her sentiments concerning
love and fidelity. Their later life, unstable and adventurous, with no
ground under their feet, had ruined altogether all ideals of happiness
and love in the young man's breast; he learned contempt before he
learned love, and now he received his well-deserved humiliation as an
insult.
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