He waved his spoon airily, looking across at me as though I were a little child whom he would keep or dismiss as he pleased.
“We certainly do not want Germany,” I said.
“This morning I took a half bath. Then this afternoon I must take a knee bath and an arm bath,” volunteered the Herr Rat; “then I do my exercises for an hour, and my work is over. A glass of wine and a couple of rolls with some sardines—”
They were handed cherry cake with whipped cream.
“What is your husband’s favourite meat?” asked the Widow.
“I really do not know,” I answered.
“You really do not know? How long have you been married?”
“Three years.”
“But you cannot be in earnest! You would not have kept house as his wife for a week without knowing that fact.”
“I really never asked him; he is not at all particular about his food.”