He paused for a moment at the door, walked away again, then came back and into the room, with rather a quicker step than usual.
"Pauline," he said, and I started visibly, "They seem to be waiting for you in the parlor for a game of cards." His voice indicated anything but satisfaction.

I half rose, then sank back, and said, hesitatingly, "Can I pour you some more tea, Mr.
Langenau ?" "If it is not troubling you too much," he said in a voice that a moment's time had hardened into sharpness.
Oh, the misery of that cup of tea, with Richard looking at me on one side flushed and angry, and Mr.Langenau on the other, pale and cynical.
My hands shook so that I could not lift the teakettle, and Richard angrily leaned down and moved it for me.

The alcohol in the lamp flamed up and scorched my arm.
"Oh Richard, you have burned me," I cried, dropping the cup and wrapping my handkerchief around my arm.

In an instant he was all softness and kindness, and, I have no doubt, repentance.
"I am very sorry," he said; "Does it hurt you very much?
Come with me, and I will get Sophie to put something on it." But Mr.Langenau did not move or show any interest in my sufferings.

I was half-crying, but I sat still and tried with the other hand to replace the cup and fill it.