himself even accompanied him to the door to shake his hand again. Vojtech rushed home, and found Karel sitting frowning on the sofa, slack with fatigue, and encompassed within a ring of his own thoughts.
"Karel," he announced triumphantly, "you ought to go to your Minister."
"I will not go," said Karel, absently.
"You will go, because . . . because he will apologize to you. He begs you to go to him so that he may express his sorrow, and his confidence in you. And his esteem." Vojtech remembered, hastily, the words already prepared.
"Why did you go there?" Karel asked with some heaviness. "It is quite useless. I will not do that, and I will . . . I will have peace, Vojtech. I feel so much better. Leave me alone, please. I am concerned with things much more important . . ."
There was a discordant silence. Vojtech, in despair, bit his nails.
"And what then, tell me, do you really wish to do?" he asked finally.
"I don't know," said Karel, with disgust, beginning to pace up and down the room.
Someone rang the bell. It was a chauffeur.
“The Minister has sent his car for the Councillor,” he announced at the door.
Karel made a sudden movement and searched the eyes of his brother suspiciously: is it not a pre-arranged comedy? But he only saw naïve surprise.
Then something absurdly emotional flooded him, an emotion which overpowers a man when he receives small trifles, unexpectedly. Tears came into his eyes. He flushed and turned to the window. Just below gleamed the body of a beautiful car.
"Very well then," he said, hesitatingly, "I'll go."
And then began suddenly to hurry. Even Vojtech helped him hurriedly and in confusion, so that they had scarcely time to say good-bye to each other.
When Vojtech stepped to the window the street was already empty; and because he felt desolate and a little sad, he went to announce to Karel’s wife the news that her husband would return.
