This gentleman told Madame Gleissner at once that Herr Andre had decided to ask for the franchise in his own name to give value to the undertaking, and that she was to appear before court and declare that she withdrew her petition and turned it over to him. She suspected a trick and refused. A dispute followed, and there came rebukes for her heavy expenditures. The climax was reached with the threat that, if she insisted on her refusal, Herr Andre would cease from that moment to let her have any money and would let her support herself. This last, which Madame Gleissner wrote me in a very bitter letter, outraged me; for I held it cruel to send a woman to a strange city where she had no relatives or friends, and then to tell her: "Now do my will, or I will leave it to bitter necessity and your own helplessness to tame you." To be sure, it was only a threat, and surely it never lay in Herr Andre's mind. His friend never ceased to give her money. But the harm had been done. Madame Gleissner appeared at her host's table with signs of tears that aroused the sympathy of her host, Herr von Bogner, a most worthy and reputable merchant. She told him everything, complained bitterly about my gullibility, and generally painted everything in such colors that Herr Bogner could not well help thinking that Herr Andre did not consider promises any too sincerely. It was only then that he learned Madame Gleissner's business and was told that the new art promised a great profit. Herr Andre's far-reaching plans for foreign exploitation seemed to him to confirm what she said. Herr Bogner thought that Herr Andre would not invest so much money if stone-print were not a valuable invention, and he asked Madame Gleissner, point-blank: "Why do you need Herr Andre at all? Try to obtain the Austrian franchise for yourself, and then, if you choose, you can take him into the company. Then he will be obligated to you and will have to meet your wishes, whereas now the reverse is the case."