"Few. Perhaps Herr would like a knoblauch with salt and vinegar?"
It occurred to me that Gretchen was not to be discussed. So I made for another channel.
"I have heard," said I, "that once upon a time a princess was born in this inn?"
The old fellow elevated both eyebrows and shoulders—a deprecating movement.
"They say that of every inn; it has become a trade."
If I had known the old man I might have said that he was sarcastic.
"Then there is no truth in it?" disappointedly.
"Oh, I do not say there is no truth in the statement; if Herr will pardon me, it is something I do not like to talk about."
"Ah, then there is a mystery?" I cried, with lively interest, pushing back my chair.
But the innkeeper shook his head determinedly.