And close by the sentry-box he saw Gretchen and her
vintner. Carmichael could not resist stopping a moment. He raised his
hat to Gretchen, to the wonder of those nearest. The vintner would have
gladly disappeared, but the human wall behind made this impossible. But
he was needlessly alarmed. Carmichael only smiled ironically.
"Do you know where the American consulate is?" he asked low, so that
none but Gretchen and the vintner heard.
"Yes," said the vintner, blushing with shame.
"I live above the agency."
"Good! I shall expect to see you in the morning."
But the vintner was determined that he shouldn't. He would be at work in
the royal vineyards on the morrow.
"To-morrow?" repeated Gretchen, to whom this by-play was a blank. "Why
should he wish to see you?"
"Who knows? Let us be going. They are pressing us too close to the
gates."
"Very well," acquiesced Gretchen, somewhat disappointed. She wanted to
see all there was to be seen.
"It is half-after ten," he added, as if to put forward some logical
excuse for leaving at this moment.
A man followed them all the way to the Krumerweg.
Carmichael threw himself eagerly into the gaiety of the dance. Never had
he seen the ball-room so brilliant with color. Among all those there
his was the one somber dress.
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