that on entering the room every man in turn passed a table and received a
piece of bread from the chef. When B. and I came opposite the table the
dispenser of bread smiled pleasantly and nodded to B., then selected a
large hunk and pushed it rapidly into B.'s hands with an air of doing
something which he shouldn't. B. introduced me, whereupon the smile and
selection was repeated.

"He thinks I'm a German," B. explained in a whisper, "and that you are a
German too." Then aloud, to the cook: "My friend here needs a spoon. He
just got here this morning and they haven't given him one."

The excellent person at the bread table hereupon said to me: "You shall
go to the window and say I tell you to ask for spoon and you will catch
one spoon"--and I broke through the waiting line, approached the
kitchen-window, and demanded of a roguish face within:

"A spoon, please."

The roguish face, which had been singing in a high faint voice to itself,
replied critically but not unkindly:

"You're a new one?"

I said that I was, that I had arrived late last night.

It disappeared, reappeared, and handed me a tin spoon and cup, saying:

"You haven't a cup?"--"No" I said.

"Here. Take this. Quick." Nodding in the direction of the Surveillant,