“Ged oop, you lazy lout, und see vat iss come already!” cried Frau Dinkelmann. “A visidor has come py us, und you peen so drunk like nodding. Fritz! Ged oop yourseluf und sit der lounge on, den look vat you see. A visidor yet.”
Frau Dinkelmann talked English, perhaps out of deference to the baron, perhaps only because she wanted to show him that she also was proficient in foreign tongues.
As she talked to Fritz, she grabbed him and heaved him bodily into a sitting position.
“Vat a fool I don’d know!” puffed Frau Dinkelmann. “Macht schnell, Fritz! Lieber Gott, vill you your eyes oben und see vat iss here?”
A groan escaped Fritz Dinkelmann’s lips. His eyes opened and he saw the baron’s hand. Grabbing at the hand, he clung to it with a fervor that almost threw him off the lounge.
“Safe me!” he blubbered; “safe me or I vill die! Vere vas it put you der schnapps, Katrina? Liebe Frau, gif me der pottle some more yet.”
Katrina stood in front of him and stuck up an admonitory finger.
“Hear me vat I say now und reflect,” she cried. “I gif you nod der pottle some more yet to-nighdt. Dot’s all aboudt it. You make oof yourseluf some pigs, some mules, ven you der schnapps trink so great. It iss nod dot he loves der trink so,” she explained to the baron, “aber dot he vants it der Dutch courage vat you call. He iss troubles in, ve art bot’ troubles in, lieber Gott, und he takes der schnapps to forget him der troubles. Vat a nonsense.”
“I haf hat drouples meinseluf, yah, so helup me,” said the baron, “aber I look dem in der eyes und face dem oudt. Vat’s der use to trink und make some forgeddings? Der drouples vas dere alretty, ven ter trink iss gone. Fritz, mein lieber freund, douple der fist oop und knock der drouples oudt oof der vay.”
Fritz moaned and tried to slump back on the lounge.