Yes, I laughed. And unfortunately Imre von N... thought that I sneered; that I sneered at my fellow-men!
«Yes,» I replied, «I knew such a man, such a 'person.' On the whole, pretty well. He had other rather acceptable qualities, you see; so I didn't allow myself to be too much stirred up by... that remarkably queer one.»
«Lately?» Imre asked.
«Oh, yes, very lately» I returned flippantly.
Imre spoke no word for several steps. Then, hesitatingly...
«Perhaps you didn't know him quite as thoroughly as you supposed. Were you quite sure?»
«Quite sure.» Then, sharply in another sentence that was uttered on impulse and with more of the equivocal in it which afterward I understood, I added. «I think we will not talk any more about him: I mean in that respect... Imre.»
Again silence. One—two, one—two—on we went, step and step, over the resonant, deserted bridge. I had an impression that Imre turned
