“Why, last night’s upset in the village.”
“Ah, yez. Id iss nod my beeznez.”
“I didn’t quite mean that. But there’s no use in getting Miss Angèle into a row, is there?”
“Dat iss zo. Vere do you leeve?”
“At the White House Farm.”
“Vere de brize caddle are?”
Martin smiled. He had never before heard English spoken with a strong German accent. Somehow he associated these resonant syllables with a certain indefinite stress which Mrs. Saumarez laid on a few words.
“Yes,” he said. “My father’s herd is well known.”
Fritz’s manner became genial.
“Zome tay you vill show me, yez?” he inquired.