I
Frau Kaethe Gregorovius overtook her husband on the path of their villa.
‘How was Nicole?’ she asked mildly; but she spoke out of breath, giving away the fact that she had held the question in her mind during her run.
Franz looked at her in surprise.
‘Nicole’s not sick. What makes you ask, dearest one?’
‘You see her so much, I thought she must be sick.’
‘We will talk of this in the house.’
Kaethe agreed meekly. His study was over in the administration building and the children were with their tutor in the living-room; they went up to the bedroom.
‘Excuse me, Franz,’ said Kaethe before he could speak. ‘Excuse me, dear, I had no right to say that. I know my obligations and I am proud of them. But there is a bad feeling between Nicole and me.’
‘Birds in their little nests agree,’ F
