'Why, yes; I have not eaten meat for three years.'
'Im—possible! Have you any family?'
'No.'
'There now, you see, that's what you're coming to! Who ever heard of having children upon vegetables? It is not possible. But you never have large families in England now; I suppose you are too busy with your suffragetting. Now I have had nine children, and they are all alive, thank God. Fine, healthy babies—though after the first one was born I had to—'
'How WONDERFUL!' I cried.
'Wonderful,' said the Widow contemptuously, replacing the hairpin in the knob which was balanced on the top of her head. 'Not at all! A friend of mine had four at the same time. Her husband was so pleased he gave a supper-party and had them placed on the table. Of course she was very proud.'
'Germany,' boomed the Traveller, biting round a potato which he had speared with his knife, 'is the home of the Family.'
Followed an appreciative silence.
The dishes were changed for beef, red currants and spinach. They wiped their forks upon black bread and started again.
'How long are you remaining here?' asked the Herr Rat.
'I do not know exactly. I must be back in London in September.'
'Of course you will visit Munchen?'
'I am afraid I shall not have time. You see, it is important not to break into my 'cure.''
'But you MUST go to Munchen. You have not seen Germany if you have not been to Munchen. All the Exhibitions, all the Art and Soul life of Germany are in Munchen. There is the Wagner Festival in August, and Mozart and a Japanese collection of pictures—and there is the beer! You do not know what good beer is until you have been to Munchen. Why, I see fine ladies every afternoon, but fine ladies, I tell you, drinking glasses so high.' He measured a good washstand pitcher in height, and I smiled.
'If I drink a great deal of Munchen beer I sweat so,' said Herr Hoffmann. 'When I am here, in the fields or before my baths, I sweat, but I enjoy it; but in the town it is not at all the same thing.'
Prompted by the thought, he wiped his neck and face with his dinner napkin and carefully cleaned his ears.
A glass dish of stewed apricots was placed upon the table.
'Ah, fruit!' said Fraulein Stiegelauer, 'that is so necessary to health. The doctor told me this morning that the more fruit I could eat the better.'
She very obviously followed the advice.
Said the Traveller: 'I suppose you are frightened of an invasion, too, eh? Oh, that's good. I've been reading all about your English play in a newspaper. Did you see it?'
'Yes.' I sat upright. 'I assure you we are not afraid.'
'Well, then, you ought to be,' said the Herr Rat. 'You have got no army at all—a few little boys with their veins full of nicotine poisoning.'
'Don't be afraid,' Herr Hoffmann said. 'We don't want England. If we did we would have had her long ago. We really do not want you.'
He waved his spoon airily, looking across at me as though I were a little child whom he would keep or dismiss as he pleased.
'We certainly do not want Germany,' I said.
'This morning I took a half bath. Then this afternoon I must take a knee bath and an arm bath,' volunteered the Herr Rat; 'then I do my exercises for an hour, and my work is over. A glass of wine and a couple of rolls with some sardines—'
They were handed cherry cake with whipped cream.
'What is your husband's favourite meat?' asked the Widow.
'I really do not know,' I answered.
'You really do not know? How long have you been married?'
'Three years.'
'But you cannot be in earnest! You would not have kept house as his wife for a week without knowing that fact.'
'I really never asked him; he is not at all particular about his food.'
A pause. They all looked at me, shaking their heads, their mouths full of cherry stones.
'No wonder there is a repetition in England of that dreadful state of things in Paris,' said the Widow, folding her dinner napkin. 'How can a woman expect to keep her husband if she does not know his favourite food after three years?'
'Mahlzeit!'
'Mahlzeit!'
I closed the door after me.
