Kendricks heaved a long sigh as he regretfully let them pass by.
"It's just a touch of Oxford left in you," he complained. "For myself, I know that madame would be excellent company, and I am perfectly certain that mademoiselle would let me whisper—discreetly—in her ear. Alas! it is a lost opportunity, and from here we go—to who knows what?"
He was suddenly serious. Julien looked at him in surprise. They were standing on the pavement outside. Kendricks consulted his watch.
"You have courage, I know, my friend," he said. "That is one reason why I choose you for my companion to-night. I have two tickets for a German socialist gathering here. The tickets were obtained with extraordinary difficulty. I know that your German is pure and I can trust to my own. From this minute, not a word in any other language, if you please."
"I am really not sure," Julien objected, "that I want to go to a German socialist meeting. In any case, I am hungry."
"Hungry!" Kendricks exclaimed. "Hungry! What ingratitude! But be calm, my friend," he added, taking Julien's arm, "there will be sausages and beer where we are going."
"In that case," Julien agreed, "I am with you. Which way?"
"Almost opposite us," Kendricks declared. "Come along."
They paused outside a brilliantly lit café with a German name. Julien looked at it doubtfully.
"Surely they don't hold meetings in a place like this?" he muttered.