"I don't keep tables up my sleeve," said she. "You see what you can have, ... just what is there. If it doesn't suit you...."
"But it does suit me," I said hurriedly, for the search had been long and exhausting, and the rooms were pleasant enough. I thought we need not deal much with the woman.
"No meals except coffee in the morning; you understand that?" she said in a truculent tone.
"Oh yes, I understand. We shall go out at midday and at night. Afternoon tea I always make myself with a spirit lamp...."
Never in my life have I been so startled. I thought the woman was going to behave like a rat in a corner, and fly at me. She shook her fist and shouted so loud that she brought the dentist on the scene.
"Spiritus," she screamed. "Spiritus—Spiritus leid' ich nicht."
"Bless us!" I said in English. "What's the matter?"
"Was ist's?" said the dentist, and he looked downright frightened.
"Sie will kochen," said his wife, shaking her fist at me again. "She has a spirit lamp. She wants to turn my beautiful bestes Zimmer into a kitchen. She will take all the polish off my furniture, just as the last people did when they cooked for themselves."
"Cooked!" I said. "Who speaks of cooking?—I spoke of a cup of tea."