"Quite so," said Anna. "But you can set your mind at rest when I inform you that he loves his Aunt Adele, a sentimental blonde of thirty-three, and is not thinking for the time being of breaking his troth to her.... Well, to continue the record. Got home at one-thirty, had my meal alone, thank Heaven! Father already at the office, mamma in a state of sleep. Rested again from three to four, thought even more about you, and more seriously too, than yesterday, then went shopping in town, gloves, safety pins and something for mamma, and then drove on the tram, reading all the way to Mariahilf, to the two Bittner kiddies.... So now you know all. Satisfied?" "Except for the boy of thirteen." "Well, I agree that that might be a bit upsetting. But now we should like to know if you haven't got even more sinister confessions to make to me." They were in a narrow silent street, which seemed quite strange to George, and Anna took his arm. "I have just come from Ehrenbergs'," he began. "Well?" queried Anna. "Did they try very much to inveigle you?" "No, I can't go so far as that. Of course they seemed a little hurt that I did not go to Auhof this summer," he added. "Did dear little Else perform?" Anna asked. "No; of course I don't know what happened after I left." "It won't be worth the trouble now," said Anna with exuberant mirth. "You are wrong, Anna. There are people there for whom it is quite worth while singing." "Who?" "Heinrich Bermann, Willy Eissler, Demeter Stanzides...." "Oh, Stanzides!" exclaimed Anna. "Now I am really sorry that I wasn't there too." "It seems to me," said George, "that that is a true word spoken in jest." "Quite so," replied Anna. "I think Demeter is really desperately handsome." George was silent for a few seconds and suddenly asked, with more emotion than he usually manifested: "Is it he then...?" "What 'he' do you mean?" "The one you ... loved more than me." She smiled, nestled closer up to him and answered simply, though a little ironically: "Am I really supposed to have been fonder of any one else than of you?" "You confessed it to me yourself," replied George. "But I also confess to you that I should love you in time more than I have loved or ever could love any one else." "Are you quite sure about that, Anna?" "Yes, George, I am quite certain of it." They had now come again into a more lively street and reluctantly let go of each other's arms. They remained standing in front of various shops. They discovered a photographer's show-case by a house-door and were very much amused by the laboriously-natural poses in which golden and silver wedding couples, cadets, cooks in their Sunday best and ladies in masked fancy dress were taken. George asked again in a lighter tone: "So it was Stanzides?" "What an idea! I have never spoken a hundred words to him in my life." They went on walking. "Leo Golowski, then?" asked George.