mean to say the words aloud;
they escaped him against his will.

His companion raised her eyebrows, filling her forehead with wrinkles.
"Going away?" she echoed. "I should say not. My dear Maurice, what is
more, it turns out she hadn't an idea he was going either. What do you
say to that?" She flushed with sincere indignation. "Not an idea--until
yesterday. My lord had the intention of sneaking off without a word,
and of leaving her to find it out for herself. Oh, it's an abominable
affair altogether!--and has been from beginning to end. There's much
about Louise, as you know, that I don't approve of, and I think she has
behaved weakly--not to call it by a harder name--all through. But now,
she has my entire sympathy. The poor girl is in a pitiable state."

"Is she ... dangerously ill?"

"Well, I don't think she'll die of it, exactly--though it might be
better for her if she did. NA!... let me fill up your cup. And eat
something more. Oh, he is ... no words are bad enough for him; though
honestly speaking, I think we might have been prepared for something of
this kind, all along. It seems he made his arrangements for going on
the quiet. Frau Schaefele advanced him the money; for of course he has
nothing of his own. But what condition do you think the old wretch
made? That he should break with Louise. Furst has told me all about it.
I went to him at once this morning. She was always jealous of
Louise--though to him she only talked of the holiness of art and the
artist's calling, and the danger of letting domestic ties entangle you,
and rubbish of that kind. I believe she was at the bottom of it that he
didn't marry Louise long ago. Well, however that may be, he now let
himself be persuaded easily enough. He was hearing on all sides that he
had been here too long; and candidly, I think he was beginning to feel
Louise a drag on him. I know of late they were not getting on well
together. But to be such a coward and a weakling! To slink off in this
fashion! Of course, when it came to the last, he was simply afraid of
her, and of the scene she would make him. Bravery has as little room in
his soul as honesty or manliness. He would always prefer a back-door
exit. Such things excite a man, don't you know?--and ruffle the
necessary artistic composure." She laughed scornfully. "However, I'm
glad to say, he didn't escape scot-free after all. Everything went well
till yesterday afternoon, when Louise, who was as unsuspecting as a