acterised by an exasperating assumption that they had the whole night before them. He was intolerably methodical.
'Why should we talk? Haven't you talked enough with those people, all the evening? What have they to say about it? What right have you to detain a letter that belongs to me?'
'Erlauben Sie: I will light my pipe,' the German remarked. And he proceeded to this business, methodically, while Hyacinth's pale, excited face showed in the glow of the match that he ignited on the rusty railing beside them. 'It is not yours unless I have given it to you,' Schinkel went on, as they walked along. 'Be patient, and I will tell you,' he added, passing his hand into his companion's arm. 'Your way, not so? We will go down toward the Park.' Hyacinth tried to be patient, and he listened with interest when Schinkel said, 'She tried to take it; she attacked me with her hands. But that was not what I went for, to give it up.'
'Is she mad? I don't recognise them,' Hyacinth murmured.
'No, but they lofe you.'
'Why, then, do they try to disgrace me?'
'They think it is no disgrace, if you have changed.'
'That's very well for her; but it's pitiful for him, and I declare it surprises me.'
'Oh, he came round, and he helped me to resist. He pulled his wife off. It was the first shock,' said Schinkel.
'You oughtn't to have shocked them, my dear fellow,' Hyacinth replied.
'I was shocked myself—I couldn't help it.'
