"I may as well confess to you at once," he exclaimed to her, simply and almostdrily, "that really I do not live here. It was only for our own sake ...that I have ... for a short while ... I deemed it prudent ... Vienna, youknow, is a teeny city, and I didn't want to take you into my house atnight-time."

She understood, but was not altogether satisfied. She looked up. She always wasnow able to look at the outlines of the picture which was hanging far above thepiano.... It really was a naked female figure. Bertha had a curious desire toexamine the picture, close at arm.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It is not a work of art," exclaimed Emil.

He struck a match and held it up, so as to throw the light on thepicture. Bertha saw that it was merely a wretched daub, but at the sametime she felt that the painted woman, with the bold laughing eyes, waslooking down at her, and she was glad when the match went out.

"You might just play something to me upon the piano," exclaimed Emil.