"This is not the way to muster up tenderness," I thought, looking around longingly for the sherry.
Then I pulled myself together. "Please eat something," I said, satisfied that I had done something marvellous.
She nodded and lifted her spoon to her mouth.
After the soup came some excellent fish, Rhine salmon if I am not mistaken, and the sauce had the proper admixture of brandy, lemon juice and capers. Delicious, in short.
Then came venison. Pretty good even if a little too fresh still. Well, on this point opinions differ.
"Do eat something," I said again, pursing my lips so that people should think that what I was whispering was a compliment or something sentimental.
No, that sort of thing didn't get me any farther.
Already I had disposed of the second bottle of the thin Rhine wine and began to swell like a balloon.
I looked around for Lothar, who had inherited from his father a scent for everything drinkable, but he had been seated somewhere downstairs.
Then I was saved by a toast, which gave me a chance to stand up. On my rounds I discovered a small but select company of sherry bottles which the old man had hidden behind a curtain.