CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT“He has come to see you,” Katalin whispered in my ear with glee, while Colonel von Avenheim paused to confer with Mark on the care of his horse. We had come upon the Colonel’s unexpected arrival just as we had been preparing to ride out ourselves, and had cheerfully turned back with him.
“István, more likely,” I returned calmly, though it was not an unpleasing thought that I still had an admirer: it soothed my bruised vanity.
Everyone was delighted to see the Colonel. He seemed to have the lucky knack of being valued by all, from the crusty old Count to the children, without regard to nationality or politics. Silently, I wondered how he had managed to avoid the dreadful conflicts of loyalty which tormented Alex, but after dinner that evening, I discovered that even he
