Von Rittenheim stared persistently out of the window, his face almost entirely turned away from her. He lost not a word of what she said, and at the same time there ran through his mind memories of their boyhood days together, and of their adventures at the gymnasium and the university. Then their rivalry over Hilda. With what careless ease Maximilian had won her away from his brother, just for the pleasure of victory. He felt again a dash of the old bitterness. "You mean he was drunk?" he asked, bluntly. She raised her tiny hands before her face as if she were warding off a blow. Friedrich hardly could hear her "Yes." Her action suggested an idea to von Rittenheim. "Tell me, Hilda." He stammered over the question. "Did he--did Max ever strike you?" Without a word Hilda pushed back the hair that fell over her forehead at one side, and showed, close to the roots, a scar. Friedrich gazed at her in horror. "You poor, poor girl!" Again the glow of satisfaction warmed her face. "Where was he when he--when he died?" "At the Schloss--in my dressing-room." "You were there?" "My dress was wet with his blood." Over Friedrich there rushed man's protective feeling, the desire to shield a woman from pain; his own yearning of not so many months ago, to fend this one fragile creature from the world. He drew nearer to her, and she leaned back in her chair and looked up at him out of the shadow. "I could not bear to live at the Schloss any longer--there were horrible memories, and I was alone; I told you my aunt had died. You know she was my only relative." Von Rittenheim knew. It was at her aunt's house in Heidelberg that he had met Hilda. "Then Maximilian had told me that we could not live in the Schloss if you did not supply the money to carry it on. After he died I could not feel myself indebted for that to you when I had treated you so badly." She hung her head. Von Rittenheim made a gesture of polite dissent, and walked again to the window. "You always had enough money, I hope?" "No sum ever was large enough for Max." They both smiled. "But a piece of great good fortune came to me just after you went away." Von Rittenheim turned again to the window and betrayed some embarrassment, but Hilda was intent upon her story, and noticed nothing. "Some of the investments into which my dowry had been put appreciated enormously in value." So that was the way Herr Stapfer had explained it. Friedrich nodded approvingly. "So I always had enough for my needs, even when----" "When what?" "Forgive me. I did not mean to say it." "You were going to say, 'Even when Maximilian took it?'" She hung her head again, like a sorry child. He noticed how her neck and arms shone white through the thin black of her gown.