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Anybody who had seen Franziska Fahler, niece of the proprietor of the "Goldenen Bock" in Huferschingen, would admit that in a moment.
Madame Patoff was well pleased with the place, and said so as she slowly climbed the narrow path, leaning on the professor's arm. The inn the old Gasthaus zum Goldenen Anker stands upon the very edge of the precipice above the tumbling Nagold, and is indeed partly built down the face of the cliff.
As to internal evidence, there is only one slight difference between Heine's ballad and Schreiber's saga: where Heine's Lorelei combs her hair with a golden comb and has golden jewelry, Schreiber's "bindet einen Kranz für ihre goldenen Locken" and "hat eine Schnur von Bernstein in der Hand."
As I thought of her, the memory of the little inn, the Gasthof zum Goldenen Anker, in Weissenstein, came vividly back to me.