“Not that I know of,” Girke answered. “With plain people, yes; both in the house and on the street. But he goes to lectures regularly, and studies at home. He does not associate with his fellow students or, rather, did not until lately. We are told, however, that at the university his personality has aroused attention. Two days ago he received a visit from a Herr von Thüngen, who is stopping in the Hotel de Rome. Whether this event will have any consequences we cannot say yet.” With clouded brow the Privy Councillor said: “I have bought all of my son’s possessions. The proceeds of the sale, amounting to thirteen million five hundred thousand marks, have been deposited in the Deutsche Bank. There are unhappily no legal methods by means of which I can be informed concerning the use to which this money is put, and whether not only the income but the capital is being used. Some clear information on this point would be of importance.” The sum named filled Girke with a reverential shudder. He lowered his head, and saliva gathered in his month. “In addition to the thirteen millions, your son also receives his annual income, doesn’t he?” Herr Wahnschaffe nodded. “It is paid him by the firm in quarterly installments through a branch of the Bank of Dresden.” “I merely ask, of course, to have a clear view of the situation. Considering such unlimited means, your son’s way of life is mysterious, most mysterious. He usually takes his meals at very humble inns and restaurants; he never uses a motor or a cab, and even the tramway quite rarely. He walks long distances both morning and evening.” This bit of information stabbed the Privy Councillor. It made a deeper impression on him than anything else the detective had told him. “I shall have due regard to your wishes in every respect, sir,” Girke said. “The information you last referred to will not be easy to obtain. But I shall see to it, sir, that you will be satisfied with the services of our firm.” That ended the interview. IV From the unconscious brooding of many days there arose in the mind of Albrecht Wahnschaffe the clear memory of an incident which had taken place at Aix-les-Bains when Christian was fourteen years old.