"I can't exactly tell you, Prince. You must take into consideration the rather obscure way in which the Countess puts what she has to say. But, to judge from what she has told me, he must have been just about as arrant a scamp as one could well imagine—a regular blackguard."
"I see," said Klaus Heinrich, "what's called a hard case, or a tough proposition."
"Exactly; we'll say man of the world—but in the most comprehensive and unlimited sense, for, to judge by the Countess's remarks, there were no limits in his case."
"No, that's what I too gathered," said Klaus Heinrich. "I've met several people of that sort—regular devils, so to speak. I heard of one such, who used to make love in his motor car, even when it was going at full speed."
"Did your friend Ueberbein tell you of him?"
"No, somebody else. Ueberbein would not think it proper to mention anything of that sort to me."
"Then he must be a useless sort of friend, Prince."
"You'll think better of him when I tell you more about him, Miss Spoelmann. But please go on!"
"Well, I don't know whether Löwenjoul behaved like your roue. Anyhow he behaved disgracefully."
"I expect he gambled and drank."
"I guess so. And besides that of course he made love, neglected the Countess and carried on with the loose women that are always to be found everywhere—at first behind her back, and later no longer behind her back but impudently and openly without any regard for her feelings."
"But tell me, why did she ever marry him?"
"She married him against her parents' will, because, as she has told me, she was in love with him. For in the first place, he was a handsome man when she first met him—he fell off in his looks later. In the second place, his reputation as a man of the world had gone before him, and that, according to her, constituted a sort of irresistible
