‘Madam, ich liebe Sie!’ ”
“Thank you,” said Birnier quietly. “I, too, would say that.”
“Ach, sprechen Sie Deutsch?” demanded zu Pfeiffer quickly.
“No, unfortunately I don’t speak it, but I understand a little; and particularly Heine.”
“Ach, Gott!”
The note was of satisfaction. A gong sounded. Zu Pfeiffer turned sharply: “Come, Herr Professor, let us go to dinner. You would wish to wash?”
The bungalow, unusually lofty, was divided into three compartments. The ceiling, made of stout white calico, to shelter from snakes and the continual dust from the wood borers, was suspended from the rafters like the roof of a marquee tent. The centre room was furnished with cane lounge chairs like a smoking-room and decorated with skins, native musical instruments, spears and shields; drums served as small tables with elephant’s toe-nails for ash trays.
In the bedroom was a brass bedstead and mosquito net. Behind was a bathroom having a corrugated cistern upon the cross beams which gave force for a shower. The towels and appointments were specklessly [pg 43] clean. When Birnier appeared he found zu Pfeiffer sprawled in the lounge. On a red lacquer tray upon a great war drum, covered with the striped skin of a zebra, was a crystal liqueur set and a large silver box of Egyptian cigarettes.
“Ach, Professor,” said he, “it is good to speak to a white man again” (by which he meant an equal). “Please be seated, I beg you. A little liqueur is good for the aperitif and a cigarette; for there is no time for another cigar.”
As Birnier sat he remarked the blonde head of the lieutenant in his meticulous uniform touched with gold and caught a glimpse of the jewelled bracelet of ivory and the Chinese finger-nail.