"Gretchen? I have heard the name before," said I, "and you remind me of some one I have seen."
"Herr has been to the great city?"
B—— is the greatest city in the world to the provincial.
"Yes," said I; "but you remind me of no one I ever saw there."
She plucked a leaf from the rose she wore and began nibbling at it.
Her mouth was smaller than the one belonging to Phyllis.
"The person to whom I refer," I went on, "lives in America, where your compatriots brew fine beer and wax rich."
"Ah, Herr is an American? I like Americans," archly. "They are so liberal."
I laughed, but I did not tell her why. All foreigners have a great love of Americans—"They are so liberal."
"So you find Americans liberal? Is it with money or with compliments?"
Said Gretchen: "The one when they haven't the other."