“Lothar?”
“Gloomy little beggar with the astonished hair who came here once to tea. You ought to know, Deb. The whole shindy concerns you. What have you been up to?”
She reflected a moment before confession. Prudence prompted the query: “What do they say I’ve been up to?”
Richard chuckled—then became instantly solemn. “This morning, Herr Sanitäts-Rath Oberunterammergau von und zu hellofarau Maximilian Hauffe called upon the honest and respected banker, Felix Koch, to complain that his daughter Frieda-Marie had been slighted and insulted by said daughter’s plighted husband-to-be, Lothar von Relling, who was seen two evenings ago in the darkest portion of the Grünewald—need I go on?”
“N-no,” said Deb, “you needn’t go on with that part of it. Tell me what the Kochs are saying?”
Richard dropped into a creditable imitation of Felix Koch:
“So I say with dignity to Herr Hauffe: ‘Herr Hauffe, tell me only this: is your anger at what has occurred, is it because my guest is a Jewess? because I myself am a Jew? If so, I regret, but I will not move in the matter.’ And he replied, taking off his hat: ‘Herr Koch, let me now assure you that there is no one in this town for whom I have a respect more profound than for yourself; I am a broad-minded man, and had your guest been a Christian lady, which she is not, I should have still been obliged my present course in defence of my daughter’s honour to pursue.’ At this I started up, and put on my hat, and gave him my hand in friendship, and together we went to Frau von Relling. Ei, but Dorzheim stared to see us arm-in-arm; twenty-seven Catholics alone took off their hats to us——”
“Is there lots more about hats, Richard?”
“No, the rest is mostly about Lothar and you. The whole town is simply ramping. You’re a goose, Deb. ’Tisn’t worth it. Why, he’s only six months older than I am—and a German!”
“Do you suppose I got any fun out of it?” she flared.