I opened my eyes foolishly, to a dark room. A match spluttered, the wick caught, and Wallace’s eyes glittered reproachfully into mine from behind his glasses. “I say, do you know what you said?” This in German.
“Well, I—”
“Shshsh, you chump, Deutsch!”
“We’d like breakfast, please!” This to a youth in the bar-room.
“Have you got your bread-cards?”
“No. We’re travelers; we’ll sign travelers’ slips.”
“Nothing doing. You can have a cup of coffee.”
“Look here, we got bread at a restaurant last night without them. Why can’t you give us some?”