They made polite gestures of agreement.
The knitting lady knitted vigorously, sitting up very straight and saying nothing, with a look on her face of disclaiming every responsibility.
"Where does your family come from?" was the next question.
This was unexpected. The twins had no desire to talk of Pomerania. They hadn't wanted to talk about Pomerania once since the war began; and they felt very distinctly in their bones that America, though she was a neutral, didn't like Germany any more than the belligerents did. It had been their intention to arrange together the line they would take if asked questions of this sort, but life had been so full and so exciting since their arrival that they had forgotten to.
Anna-Rose found herself unable to say anything at all. Anna-Felicitas, therefore, observing that Christopher was unnerved, plunged in.
"Our family," she said gently, "can hardly be said to come so much as to have been."
The old lady thought this over, her lustreless eyes on Anna-Felicitas's face.
The knitting lady clicked away very fast, content to leave the management of the Twinklers in more competent hands.
"How's that?" asked the old lady, finally deciding that she hadn't understood.
"It's extinct," said Anna-Felicitas. "Except us. That is, in the direct line."