"Well, why not?" retorted Marjon, with great self-assurance. "All the same, there have been countesses who eloped with head-waiters." The cook and the chambermaids laughed. "Clear out, you rascal!" said the waiter. "What country is she from?" asked Marjon, undeterred. "She? She has no native country. The Count was a Pole, and the Countess came from America. At present she is living in Holland." "Widow--or divorced?" asked one of the chambermaids. "Divorced, of course! That's much more interesting." "And that young Hollander? Is he related to her?" "What! He's a fellow-traveler. They met there." "Shall we not start out again, Jo?" asked Marjon, as they sat together eating their supper of brown bread and cheese, in the same cramped, smoky room where the humble Hercules and his little daughter were also sitting--dressed, at present, in shabby civilian clothes, and each provided with a glass of beer. "I am going to take my song," said Johannes. "Manage it some way, Jo; I'll have nothing to do with those people." Johannes ate his supper in silence. But, secretly, his feeling toward Marjon grew cooler, and she dropped in his estimation. She was jealous, or insensitive to what was beautiful or noble in people. She had also lived so long among dirty and rude folk! Oh, those two dear little girls! They were nobler and more refined beings. Softly--fervently--Johannes repeated their names: "Olga! Frieda!" Then, as true as you live, there came a gold-bebraided small boy from the big hotel, bearing a note so perfumed that the close little room was filled with its sweetness; and the beer drinkers sniffed it with astonishment. It was from Mijnheer, requesting Johannes to come to him, but without the monkey. "Go by yourself," said Marjon. "Kees mustn't go along because he has an odor of another sort. You may say that I prefer that of Kees." Mijnheer van Lieverlee was drinking strong black coffee from small metal cups, and smoking a Turkish pipe with an amber mouthpiece. At each pull of the pipe the water gurgled. He wore black silk hose and polished shoes, and he invited Johannes to a seat beside him on the broad divan. After a pause he addressed Johannes as follows: "There--that's it, Johannes! Sit quite still, and while we talk try to maintain yourself in the uppermost soul-sphere." Then, after a period of pipe-gurgling, Mijnheer van Lieverlee asked: "Are you there?" Johannes was not quite sure about it, but he nodded assent, being very curious concerning what was to follow. "I can ask you that, Johannes, because we understand each other instantly. You and I, you know--you and I! We knew each other before we were in the body. It is not necessary for us to make each other's acquaintance after the manner of ordinary, commonplace people. We can instantly do as you and Windekind did. We are not learning to know, but we recognize each other."