‘I was saying,’ continued Greif, ‘that I preferred my own part of the country, though you may call it less civilised if you please.’
‘It is natural,’ assented Rex, without looking up from his figure. ‘Every man prefers the place where he is born, I suppose, provided his associations with it are agreeable.’ Then he unconsciously spoke a few words to himself, unnoticed by Greif.
‘Saturn in his fall and term-cadent peregrine.’
‘It is not only that,’ said Greif. ‘Look at the Rhine, how flat and dull and ugly it grows—’
He was suddenly interrupted by the close presence of the other student, who had risen and stood over him, touching his cap and bowing stiffly.
‘Excuse me,’ he said in a harsh voice, ‘my name is Bauer—from Cologne—I must beg you not to insult the Rhine in a public place, nor in my hearing.’
Greif rose to his feet at once, very much astonished that any one should wish to quarrel with him upon such a pretence. Before he could answer, however, Rex anticipated him by addressing the student in a tone that rang through the broad room.
‘Hold your tongue, you silly boy!’ he said, and for the first time since they had become friends Greif recognised the angry accents he had heard through the door when he had first gone to Rex’s lodging.
‘Prosit!’ growled Bauer. ‘Who are you, if you please?’
‘My name is Rex. My friends the Swabians will manage this affair.’