"My God, yes, I did have a brother; but he was a scoundrel." Grumbach lighted a cigar.

He did not offer one to Hermann, who would have refused it.
"Perhaps he was a scoundrel.

He is--dead!" softly.
"God's will be done!" But Hermann's face turned lighter.
"As a boy he loved you." "And did I not love him ?" said Hermann fiercely.

"Did I not worship that boy, who was to me more like a son than a brother?
Had not all the brothers and sisters died but he?
But you--who are you to recall these things ?" "I knew your brother; I knew him well.

He was not a scoundrel; only weak.