Zu Pfeiffer sat down with his back to Birnier and facing the photograph. Birnier’s face twitched; he raised his arm. The sergeant barked and the line of bayonets lowered menacingly.
“You gom with me, Herr American,” ordered the sergeant.
Birnier controlled himself.
“One moment, sergeant, please! Herr Lieutenant, on what charge do you arrest me?” The perfect lines of the white-clad back did not quiver. “Very good! I give you warning, Herr Lieutenant, that you have committed an assault upon an American citizen.”
“Gom! Gom!” insisted the sergeant impatiently.
Birnier raised his head and walked as indicated by the sergeant. As the footsteps plodded across the square zu Pfeiffer turned to the table, examining his left hand.
“Ach!” he growled gutturally, “the dirty pig has broken my nail!”