Botho was somewhat surprised at the prompt and repeated use of his title and so he said: "Do you know me?"
"Yes, Herr Baron. Baron Rienäcker of Landgrafenstrasse. Close by the cab stand. I have often driven you before."
During this conversation Botho had got in, meaning to make himself as comfortable as possible in the corner of the plush cushioned seat, but he soon gave up that idea, for the corner was as hot as an oven.
Rienäcker had, in common with all Brandenburg noblemen, the pleasing and good-hearted trait that he preferred to talk with plain people rather than with more "cultivated" folk, and so he began at once, while they were in the half shade of the young trees along the canal: "How hot it is! Your horse cannot have been much pleased when he heard me say Rollkrug."
"Oh, Rollkrug is well enough; Rollkrug is well enough because of the woods. When he gets there and smells the pines, he is always pleased. You see, he is from the country.... Or perhaps it is the music too. At any rate, he always pricks up his ears."
"Indeed," said Botho. "He doesn't look to me much like dancing.... But where can we get the wreath then? I do not want to get to the churchyard without a wreath."
"Oh, there is plenty of time for that, Herr Baron. As soon as we get into the neighborhood of the churchyard, from the Halle Gate on and the whole length of the Pioneerstrasse."
"Yes, yes, you are quite right. I was forgetting...."
"And after that, until you are close to the churchyard, there are plenty more places."
Botho smiled. "You are perhaps a Silesian?"