feel sorrier for him than for the marquis and the prince together. He's always so utterly alone and without love, and now he thinks he has found a friend, and the friend betrays him …"
Hans Hansen cast a sidelong glance into Tonio's face, and something in that face must surely have won him over to this subject, for he suddenly thrust his arm into Tonio's again and asked,
"Why, how does he betray the king, Tonio?"
Tonio was stirred to action.
"Why, the fact is," he began, "that all letters to Brabant and Flanders …"
"There comes Erwin Immerthal," said Hans.
Tonio was silent. "If only the earth would swallow him up," he thought, "this Immerthal. Why must he come and disturb us? I only hope he won't go along and talk about his riding lessons the whole hour"—For Erwin Immerthal had riding lessons also. He was the son of a bank director and lived here outside the gate. With his crooked legs and his eyes like slits he came along the avenue to meet them, his school-bag already safe at home.
"Hello, Immerthal," said Hans. "I'm taking a little walk with Kröger."
"I have to go into town," said Immerthal, "on some errands. But I'll walk a piece with you … Those are fruit tablets, aren't they? Thanks, yes, I'll eat a couple. We take another lesson tomorrow, Hans."—He meant the riding lesson.
"Fine!" said Hans. "You know, I'm going to get the leather spats now, because I got A on my exercise last week."
"I suppose you aren't taking riding lessons yet, Kröger?" asked Immerthal, and his eyes were only a pair of shining slits.
"No," answered Tonio with quite uncertain accent.
"You ought to ask your father, Kroger," remarked Hans Hansen, "to let you take lessons too."
