Others joined
in, complimenting him on his knowledge of the language, making him feel
utterly at his ease, yet at the same time a little uncomfortable by the
excess of their admiration. After all, it was such a very small thing to
do, this sentimental journey.
The time passed along quickly; the coffee was excellent, the cigars soft
and of the nutty flavour he loved. At length, fearing to outstay his
welcome, he rose reluctantly to take his leave. But the others would not
hear of it. It was not often a former pupil returned to visit them in
this simple, unaffected way. The night was young. If necessary they
could even find him a corner in the great _Schlafzimmer_ upstairs. He
was easily persuaded to stay a little longer. Somehow he had become the
centre of the little party. He felt pleased, flattered, honoured.
"And perhaps Bruder Schliemann will play something for us--now."
It was Kalkmann speaking, and Harris started visibly as he heard the
name, and saw the black-haired man by the piano turn with a smile.
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