These words, spoken in a sharp incisive voice, interrupted his flow of words. He looked toward the door, and his arms fell to his sides, the blood forsaking his cheeks. Herr von Negrusz turned crimson. "Be silent," repeated Chane, stretching her hand toward the fat, trembling little man. Drawn up to her full height, she stood in the doorway, looking as proud and beautiful as a queen. Herr Florian let his head sink and his under lip fall, and altogether looked very sheepish. Chane closed the door, and walked up to the two men. "Did--you--listen?" stammered the old sinner, trying to laugh. "I did not listen," answered Chane, emphatically. "It is not my custom to try to hear what gentlemen say in this room. It is no concern of mine. I was engaged in that part of the shop where the spices are; it is so close to the door that I could not help overhearing. It was bitter enough to do so, but it is harder still to be obliged to speak for myself." As she said this the hot blood rushed to her face. She hesitated, and then continued: "But Nathan is not at home, and I am compelled to tell you myself, to your face, Herr von Bolwinski, that you are a liar. Yesterday I did ask my husband if Herr von Negrusz was proud, as he never spoke to me, as other gentlemen do. I meant nothing wrong, and therefore, Herr von Bolwinski ... you ... you ought to be ashamed...." Herr von Bolwinski did as he was bid; he was ashamed. His face fell, and his eyes sought the ground. Herr von Negrusz, on the contrary, fixed his eyes upon Chane. It was dangerous, even for one whose heart was "buried in the grave," to drink in her marvelous beauty. "I thank Herr von Negrusz," continued Chane, with increasing hesitation, and blushing more deeply than before, "for showing a friendly interest in Nathan and me; and if he will not speak to me, I must speak to him, and tell him that he is rightly called a noble-minded man, and for my part, I thank him...." Like Herr Florian, the district judge found no words of reply, and looked down somewhat abashed. He seized his hat, and bowing respectfully, left the room. His old housekeeper, who had a great regard for him, was distressed at his loss of appetite that evening, for he sent away his favorite dishes almost untouched. * * * * * The days passed, and imperceptibly a bond of love was formed between these two hearts, which was sinful and criminal in the sight of God and man. The scene in the little wine-shop had had no apparent consequences, except that Herr von Bolwinski took the rest of his potations at home that day. Of course he took an extra quantity, to console him for what he considered his undeserved rebuff. Next day he appeared as usual, passing Chane in the shop.