half idiot..."

"Yes, that is a new picture of the Kaiser. We have moved the thorn-crowned
one of Jesus Christ out into the passage. It was not cheerful to sleep
with. Dear Frau Fischer, won't you take your coffee out in the garden?"

"That is a very nice idea. But first I must remove my corsets and my
boots. Ah, what a relief to wear sandals again. I am needing the 'cure'
very badly this year. My nerves! I am a mass of them. During the entire
journey I sat with my handkerchief over my head, even while the guard
collected the tickets. Exhausted!"

She came into the arbour wearing a black and white spotted dressing-gown,
and a calico cap peaked with patent leather, followed by Kathi, carrying
the little blue jugs of malt coffee. We were formally introduced. Frau
Fischer sat down, produced a perfectly clean pocket handkerchief and
polished her cup and saucer, then lifted the lid of the coffee-pot and
peered in at the contents mournfully.

"Malt coffee," she said. "Ah, for the first few days I wonder how I can
put up with it. Naturally, absent from home one must expect much
discomfort and strange food. But as I used to say to my dear husband:
with a clean sheet and a good cup of coffee I can find my happiness
anywhere. But now, with nerves like mine, no sacrifice is too terrible for
me to make. What complaint are you suffering from? You look exceedingly
healthy!"

I smiled and shrugged my shoulders.

"Ah, that is so strange about you English. You do not seem to enjoy