A voice bade him enter.

Ah, it was the German-American, whose papers had puzzled his excellency.
"You wished to see me, Herr Grumbach ?" "Yes," said Grumbach, offering a chair.
Hermann accepted the courtesy with dignity.

His host drew up another chair to the opposite side of the reading-table.

The light overhead put both faces in a semishadow.
"You are Hermann Breunner," began Grumbach.
"Yes." "You once had a brother named Hans." Hermann grew rigid in his chair.

"I have no brother," he replied, his voice dull and empty.
"Perhaps not now," continued Grumbach, "but you did have." Hermann's head drooped.