"You want his moral character? Well, I'll be equally candid. Or, at
least, I'll give you my opinion of him. It's another superlative. Just
as I consider him the best violinist, I also hold him to be the
greatest scamp in the place--and I've no objection to use a stronger
word if you like. I wouldn't take his hand, no, not if he offered it
to me. The last time he was in this room, about six months ago, he--
well, let us say he borrowed, without a word to me, five or six marks
that were lying loose on the writing-table. Yes, it's a fact," she
repeated, complacently eyeing Maurice's dismay. "Otherwise?--oh,
otherwise, he was born, I think, with a silver spoon in his mouth. He
has one piece of luck after another. Zeppelin discovered him ten years
ago, on a concert-tour--his father is a smith in Warsaw--and brought him
to Leipzig. He was a prodigy, then, and a rich Jewish banker
took him up, and paid for his education; and when he washed his hands
of him in disgust, Schaefele's wife--Schaefele is head of the
HANDELVEREIN, you know--adopted him as a son--some people say as more
than a son, for, though she was nearly forty, she was perfectly crazy
over him, and behaved as foolishly as any of the dozens of silly girls
who have lost their hearts to him."

"I suppose they are engaged," said Maurice after a pause, speaking out
of his own thoughts.

"Do you?" she asked with mild humour. "I really never asked them.--But
this is just another example of his good fortune. When he has worn out
every one else's patience, through his dishonest extravagance, he
picks up a rich wife, who is not averse to supporting him before
marriage."