I found, then, that those blue eyes were not so mild as they seemed. His glance seemed to cut me through and through.
"You understand what you are saying?" he asked.
"Yes!" I answered. "I want to join the No. 1 Branch."
"Why?"
"Because I am a German," I answered.
"Who told you about it?"
"A waiter named Hans in the Manhattan Hotel, New York."
I lied with commendable promptitude.
"Have you served?" he asked.
"At Mayence, eleven years ago," I answered.