You have only to ask the gossip and newsmonger of Barnow--the magnificent Frau Emilie, wife of the new registrar. Her husband has lived ten years in Barnow, but he is still called the "new registrar," to distinguish him from his colleague, who has been there twice as long. Frau Emilie will show you a calling-card, and answer as follows: "How can one associate with such a person? Look at her card--why has she not had it printed in the proper way, with her maiden name in the usual place? Because it would not look well to put 'Christine von Negrusz, _nee_ Bilkes, _divorcee_ Silberstein.' Her real name is Chane, her father is Nathan Bilkes, and another Nathan--Nathan Silberstein--is her first husband. Negrusz is eccentric. First he wanted to marry the daughter of a millionaire, an Armenian baron, and when this was forbidden, he suddenly comforted himself by falling in love with the rather good-looking Jewess, and he bought her from her husband...." "Bought?" you will ask with surprise--"for money--for hard cash?" "Of course--why not?" your informant will reply. "Are you really surprised? To a Jew everything is salable--even a wife. It is said that Negrusz had to pay down a thousand gulden. If you do not believe me, ask every one in Barnow, or, better still, ask Nathan Silberstein how much he got. He is a wine-merchant, and though he is continually traveling about, he is sure to be at home for the great feasts. He will tell you that he gave her up to the district judge willingly. Now, I ask you, can we associate with such a woman?" Emilie, the magnificent, is right for the most part. Frau Christine was really Chane, and she had been Chane Bilkes, and afterward Chane Silberstein. The wine-merchant had given her up voluntarily to the district judge. She was right also when she said that it was impossible for her--Emilie--to know such a person. She was quite wrong about the money transaction. The price paid was not a bank-note, but a human heart. * * * * *