While George was remembering all this his irritation at the rude conduct and stubborn silence of his companion rose to a genuine sense of enmity, and quite unconsciously he began to think that all the insults which had been previously directed against Bermann had been in fact justified. He now remembered too that Heinrich had been personally antipathetic to him from the beginning, and that he had indulged in some ironic remark to Frau Ehrenberg about her cleverness in having lost no time in adding that young celebrity to the tame lions in her drawing-room. Else, of course, had immediately taken Heinrich's part, and explained that he was an interesting man, was in many respects positively charming, and had prophesied to George that sooner or later he would become good friends with him. And as a matter of fact George had preserved, as the result of that nocturnal conversation on the seat in the Ringstrasse in the spring of this year, a certain sympathy for Bermann which had survived down to the present evening. They had passed the last inns some time ago. The white high road ran by their side out into the night on a straight and lonely track between the trees, and the very distant music only reached them in more or less broken snatches. "But where are you going to?" Heinrich exclaimed suddenly, as though he had been dragged there against his will, and stood still. "I really can't help it," remarked George simply. "Excuse me," said Heinrich. "You were so deep in thought," retorted George coolly. "I wouldn't quite like to say 'deep.' But it often happens that one loses oneself in one's thoughts like this." "I know," said George, somewhat reconciled. "They were expecting you in August at Auhof," said Heinrich suddenly. "Expected? Frau Ehrenberg was certainly kind enough to invite me, but I never accepted. Did you stay there a fairly long time, Herr Bermann?" "A fairly long time? No. I was up there a few times, but only for an hour or so." "I thought you stayed there." "Not a bit of it. I stayed down at the hotel. I only occasionally went up to Auhof. There was too much noise and bustle there for me.... The house was positively packed with visitors. And I can't stand most of the people who go there." An open fiacre in which a gentleman and lady were sitting passed by. "Why, that was Oskar Ehrenberg," said Heinrich. "And the lady?" queried George, looking towards something bright that gleamed through the darkness. "Don't know her." They turned their steps through a dark side-avenue. The conversation stuck again. Finally Heinrich began: "Fräulein Else sang a few of your songs to me at Auhof. I'd heard some of them already too, sung by the Bellini, I think." "Yes, Bellini sang them last winter at a concert." "Well, Fräulein Else sang those songs and some others of yours as well." "Who accompanied her, then?"