He threw his cigarette into the street.
“It is not so bad as shaving.”
“It takes longer.”
“Yes; but shaving you may cut yourself.”
Rosina laughed; he heard her and turned suspiciously.
“Why do you laugh?”
“Because.”
“What amuses you?”
“You do.”
He smiled and they walked one or two blocks in silence. They were now in the suburb of Schwabing, far out by the western end of the Englischergarten. The street was very uninteresting and comparatively deserted.