"Yes, every one. Mother says so."

The girl went away, then brought her a jug of hot water.

"I hope," said Fanny, venturing upon a sea of forgotten German, "I hope
I haven't turned you or your sister out of this room."

"This is the strangers' room," said Elsa. "I thank you."

When she had gone, Fanny looked round the room. It was too German to be
true. The walls were dark red, the curtains dark red, the carpet,
eiderdown, rep cover of the armchair, plush on the photograph frames,
embroidered mats upon the washstand, tiles upon the stove, everything a
deep, dark red. Four mugs stood upon the mantelpiece, and ... she rubbed
her eyes ... was it possible that one had an iron cross upon its
porcelain, one the legend "Got mit uns," the third the head of the
Kaiser, the fourth the head of the Kaiserin? "That is too much! The
people I shall write to won't believe it!"

Her bed was overhung by a large branch of stag's horn fixed upon the
wall.

She felt the bed, counted the blankets, found matches on the
mantelpiece, a candle in the candlestick, room in the stove to boil a
kettle or a saucepan. Hot water steamed from her jug, a hot brick had
been placed to warm her bed, a plate of rye bread cut in slices and
covered with a cloth was upon the table.

Foreign to her own, the eyes which had rejoiced in this room ... yet the