“But the English beds have curtains,” said Madame Doppeldick, “thick stuff or canvas curtains, Dietrich,—all round, and over the top—just like a general’s tent.”
“We can go—schloo—ooop—to bed in the dark, Malchen.”
“No—no,” objected Madam Doppeldick, with a grave shake of her head. “We’ll have no blindman’s-buff work, Dietrich,—and maybe blundering into wrong beds.”
“Schloo—oo—oo—oo—ooop.”
“And if ever I saw a wild, rakish, immoral, irreligious-looking young man, Dietrich, the Captain is one!”
“Schloo—oo—oo—oo—ooop.”
“Did you observe, Dietrich, how shamefully he stared at me?”
“Schloo—ooop.”
“And the cut on his forehead, Dietrich, I’ll be bound he got it for no good!”