"Don't you know a better way of addressing me when we are alone?" she asked, looking him full in the face. "I do, but I mustn't" "And last time--how about then?" "It happened to be my birthday," he replied, "and I wanted a pretty gift, so I presented that to myself." "And to-day's my birthday," she laughed. "What will you present me with?" "Whatever my lady wishes." "Call me comrade." "Once or always?" "Always." "Just _say_ comrade, or be comrade, too?" "Be, be, be," she cried. "The being is the chief thing." "Agreed!" he said, cautiously sliding his right hand along the swaying trunk. "Agreed!" she said, and they shook hands on it. "There's something else to be passed upon in connection with this," he observed, and cleared his throat. "What's that?" "Is this comradeship to be accompanied or not to be accompanied by the use of the first name?" "Not," rejoined Lilly, thinking she had made a great sacrifice. He took the prohibition at its face value and said obediently: "As my comrade wishes." Now her time had come. Lilly drew in a deep breath and said: "I have something very serious to say to you, Mr. Von Prell." He seemed to suspect evil. "Ouch," he said, and bit his gloved thumb. Lilly began. She would say absolutely nothing about that affair with Katie, even though it was very dreadful, because what is to be forgiven must also be forgotten. But if he thought the life he had been leading ever since he had come to Lischnitz had remained a secret, he was greatly mistaken. Even the scrubbing women laughed at him behind his back. But he couldn't expect anything else, if he--and she recounted the list of his sins, which, in spite of herself, had reached her ears from the servants' hall. Lilly was ashamed of what she said. She had meant to speak of entirely different things--of the loftiness of human existence, of the greatness of self-abnegation, of keeping oneself pure for the sake of genuine feelings, of the mysterious spiritual union of the elect on earth, and much more in the same strain. But when she saw him, as he sat there with his back curved and his feet turned inward, causing bulbs to appear and disappear on the soft leather of his riding boots where they covered his big toes, nothing better occurred to her. He did not interrupt her. When she had concluded he maintained silence and occupied himself with following the movements of an insect which was wriggling in the dark, slimy water of the ditch. "Have you nothing to say," she asked, "after I have reproached you with such disgraceful behaviour?" "What should I have to say?" he asked in turn. "My one claim to celebrity is my being a man utterly devoid of moral fibre. Should I lose that one claim, too?" "If you have nothing within yourself to hold you up, lean on me," she cried, glowing with eagerness. "Let me be your friend, your adviser, your--" "Foster-father," he suggested, and swished about the slime with his crop.