Culch. It's the best place to get to Cologne and up the Rhine from. Then, you see, we go rather out of our way to Nuremberg—
Podbury. Where they make toys? I know—pretty festive there, eh?
Culch. I don't know about festive—but it is—er—a quaint, and highly interesting old place. Then I thought we'd dip down to Constance, and strike across the Alps to the Italian Lakes.
Podbury. Italian Lakes? First—rate! Yes, they're worth seeing, I suppose. Think they're better than the Swiss ones, though?
Culch. (tolerantly). I can get the coupons changed for Switzerland, if you prefer it. The Swiss Lakes may be the more picturesque.
Podbury. Yes, we'll do Switzerland—and run back by Paris, eh? Not much to do in Switzerland, though, after all!
Culch. (with a faintly superior smile). There are one or two mountains, I believe. But, personally, I should prefer Italy.
Podbury. So should I. No fun in mountains—unless you go up 'em. What do you think of choosing some quiet place, where nobody ever goes—say in France or Germany—and, sticking to that. More of a rest, wouldn't it be? such a bore having to know a lot; of people!
Culch. I don't see how we can change all the tickets, really. If you like, we could stop a week at St. Goarshausen.
Podbury. What's St. Goarshausen like—cheery?