Hartmut colored to the roots of his hair at this merited reproof given
to a stranger, a foreigner, as she supposed, who had forgotten himself.
What if this girl knew to whom she was talking, what if she ever learned
--a feeling of shame overcame him for the second, but he was a man of
the world and controlled himself once more.

"I beg your pardon," he said, with a slight, half-mocking bow. "I was
under the impression that we were merely exchanging impersonal opinions.
I sincerely regret having annoyed you, Fräulein."

A scarcely perceptible movement of her head, and a slight shrug of the
shoulders showed him that he had no power to really annoy her.

"I could certainly not think of influencing your judgments, but as our
ideas are so radically opposed, I think it would be better to drop the
conversation altogether."

Rajanow showed no disposition to continue it. Now he knew for a surety
that the cold eyes could sparkle and blaze with anger, he had forced
them to do it, but the thing had ended otherwise than he had expected.
He gave the slight figure at his side a half-inimical glance, and then
his eyes lost themselves again in the dense green of the forest.

There was something captivating after all about this forest loneliness
under the first light breath of autumn, a breath which touched the
leaves tenderly and laid such delicate tints upon them, brightening the
lovely landscape with its vivid reds and varied browns, with its
glimpses here and there of bright gold where the sunlight pierced the
woodland shade. The branches of the tall trees, centuries old, swayed
gently to and fro, and threw long, cool shadows across the occasional