Into the empty chair beside Harmony Peter slid his long figure,
and met a tremulous bow and silence. From the head of the table
Frau Schwarz was talking volubly--as if, by mere sound, to
distract attention from the scantiness of the meal. Under cover
of the Babel Peter spoke to the girl. Having had his warning his
tone was friendly, without a hint of the intimacy of the day
before.
"Better?"
"Not entirely. Somewhat."
"I wish you had sent Olga to me for some tablets. No one needs to
suffer from headache, when five grains or so of powder will help
them."
"I am afraid of headache tablets."
"Not when your physician prescribes them, I hope!"
This was the right note. Harmony brightened a little. After all,
what had she to do with the man himself? He had constituted
himself her physician. That was all.
"The next time I shall send Olga."
"Good!" he responded heartily; and proceeded to make such a meal
as he might, talking little, and nursing, by a careful
indifference, her new-growing confidence.
It was when he had pushed his plate away and lighted a
cigarette--according to the custom of the pension, which accorded
the "Nicht Rauchen" sign the same attention that it did to the
portrait of the deceased Herr Schwarz--that he turned to her
again.
"I am sorry you are not able to walk. It promises a nice night."
Peter was clever. Harmony, expecting an invitation to walk, had
nerved herself to a cool refusal.
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