"Any further commands for the mistress of the house?" she queried in no humble tones.
The War Lord, seemingly absorbed in a document he had taken up, replied without looking at his hostess: "Send in Moltke," whereupon the Baroness retreated backward towards the door. She was about to drop a curtsy to signify her leave-taking, when the War Lord cried out: "One thing more, Madame la Baronne. From now on this room is _my_ room, and none but myself or the Krupp heiress has the _entrée_. My goddaughter may see my representatives here, but no one else—no one."
The Baroness and Franz—The Power-Drunk War Lord—A Pawn in the Game—The Sweets of Power—Germany Above All—The War Lord’s Murder Lust—Fighting the Frankenstein—At the War Lord’s Mercy
The Baroness’s boudoir in Villa Huegel is a spacious apartment, hung in blue and silver, the colours of her noble house. Everything that riches, mellowed by refinement, could command enhanced its luxurious comfort. In the home of Baroness Krupp are trophies of her visits to foreign shores: cut glass, coins, bronzes and curios of all kinds. Silver-gilt caskets hold royal presents, precious stuffs and monstrous ornaments from German kings and kinglets—articles of jewellery for the most part, too big for a woman of taste. All are crowned and initialled, but few hall-marked. Since a prince is supposed to give away the real thing, why bother about carats? Numerous paintings, English landscapes, French and Italian decorative art and figures. An English grand piano in one corner. Britishers prefer German makes, but the much-travelled Baroness wouldn’t tolerate the home product.
She is seated before a spindle-legged table with a crystal top over a velvet-lined drawer, where Madame’s royal orders and decorations repose—crosses and stars, quadrupeds and birds of various _outré_ forms and degrees. Pointing to one of them bearing the name of a queen famous for her beauty and misfortunes, she murmured: "How proud I was when he gave it to me! At that time I thought him chivalrous and believed him sincere in his religious professions. Since he intrigues to make my little girl the accomplice of his murderous desires, never more will I wear it."
"Master Franz desires to speak to your ladyship," said a manservant from behind the portières covering the doorway.