revealed. "This is called the cabinet of love." The light of a lantern from some courtyard streamed through the uncurtained window, lit up the mirror and the spindle-legged sofa. Mr. Buck took a long breath of the musty air which was wafted out after goodness knows how many years. He smiled absentmindedly and then shut the little door.
Diederich, who was not much interested in all this, observed the approach of something that promised to be much more exciting. It was Judge Fritzsche who had arrived. His leave was probably over, he was back from the south, and he had put in an appearance, though rather late, and also without Judith Lauer, whose holiday would last so long as her husband was in prison. As he approached, with a swinging stride which did not deceive the onlookers, there was a great deal of whispering, and every one whom he greeted stole a glance at old Herr Buck. Fritzsche doubtless realised that, in the circumstances, he would have to do something. He plucked up his courage and went ahead. The old man, who was still unaware of his presence, suddenly found Fritzsche in front of him. He turned very pale. Diederich was frightened and stretched out his arms, but nothing happened. The old man had recovered himself. He stood there, holding him self so stiffly erect that his back was hollow, and looked calmly and steadily at the man who had seduced his daughter.
"Back so soon, Judge?" he asked in a loud tone. Fritzsche tried to laugh genially. "The weather was nicer down south, Herr Buck. And how is art?" "We have only a reflection of it here," and without taking his eyes off Fritzsche he motioned towards the walls. His demeanour made an impression on most of those who were watching eagerly for a sign of weakness. He held fast and did the honours in a situation which would have rendered a certain lack of self-restraint explicable. He stood for the old dignity, he alone, on behalf of his ruined family, of his following, which was conspicuously absent. In that moment he gained the sympathies of
