Grumbach entered.
"You are angry about something," he said.
"So I am, but you are always welcome."
"You have overslept?"
"No; on the contrary."
"Poker?"
"After a fashion," said Carmichael, the grumble gone from his voice. "I
was beaten by three of a kind."
"So?"
"But I found a good hand later."
"Kings."
"Four?"
"Oh, no; only one. I haven't drawn yet."
"You are not telling me all."
"No. You are going to the ball to-night?"
"I would not miss it for five thousand crowns," sadly.
"You look as if you were going to a funeral instead of the greatest
event of the year in Dreiberg."
"I didn't sleep well either."
"Out?"
"No; one does not have to go out in order not to sleep."
"I'd like to know what's going on in that bullet-head of yours."
"Nothing is going on; everything has stopped."
"Can't you make a confidant of me, Hans?"
"Not yet, Captain."
"When you are ready it may be too late. I leave Dreiberg for good in a
few weeks."
"No!" For the first time Grumbach showed interest.
"I have resigned the consulship."
"And for what reason?"
Carmichael silently drew on his coat.
_"Ach!_ So you have one, too?"
"One what?"
"One secret."
"Yes. But it's the kind we can't talk about.
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