At this point he choked and was seized with a fit of coughing and had to sink down into his upholstered chair. The Baroness gave him sweetened water to drink. I took up my hat without saying anything. Then I happened to notice Iolanthe standing there white as chalk, with her hands folded, and looking at me as if in her shame and misery she wished to beg my pardon, or expected something like help from me. I wanted to say good-bye at least. So I waited quietly until I felt I might assume that the old man, who was lying there groaning and panting, was in a condition to understand me. Then I said: "Baron von Krakow, you must realise, of course, that after such an attack upon my friend and his son, whom I love as if he were my own, our relations----" He pounded with his hands and feet as a sign to me not to go on speaking, and after trying several times to catch his breath, he finally succeeded in saying: "That asthma--the devil take it--like a halter around your neck--snap--your throat goes shut. But what's that you're cackling about _our_ relations? _Our_ relations, that is, your and my relations, there never has been anything wrong with them, my dear sir. They are the best relations in the world. If I insulted that litigious fellow, the--the--noble man, I take it all back and call myself a vile cur. Only nobody must speak to me about him. I don't want to be reminded that he has a son and heir. To me he's dead, you see--he's dead, dead, dead." He cut the air three times with his fist, and looked at me triumphantly, as if he had dealt my friend Puetz his death-blow. "Nevertheless, Baron----" I started to say. "No neverthelessing here. You are my friend! You are the friend of my family--look at my womenfolk--completely smitten. Don't be ashamed, Iolanthe! Just make eyes at him, child. Do you think I don't see anything, goosie?" She did not blush nor did she seem to be abashed, but raised her folded hands slightly. It was such a touching, helpless gesture that it completely disarmed me. So I sat down again for a few moments and spoke about indifferent matters. Then I took leave as soon as I could without provoking him again. "Go to the door with him, Iolanthe," said the old man, "and be charming to him. He's the richest man in the district." At that we all laughed. But walking beside me in the twilight of the hall, Iolanthe said very softly, with a sort of timid grief: "I know you don't want to come again." "No, I don't," I said frankly, and was about to give my reasons, when she suddenly snatched up my hand, pressed it between her slim white palms, and said, half crying: "Oh, come again! Please, please come again." That's the way you're taken in. Old nincompoop that I was, I went daft on the instant. In my excitement I chewed up the whole of my cigar on the ride home, forgetting to light it.