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Granted that the obese Germans about him on the tram trundling along toward Loschwitz were talking war and preparing for war. They had been doing so for forty-three years and no conflict had come. Immense populations of peace and unpreparedness were growing up who would discourage a world war would not permit it.
There were Fritzi and another girl and two young men all very profuse in their appreciation of his hospitality. The popping of a few bottles of cheap champagne sounded in his ears. He was in the swing of the excitement and could not be outdone. His brand was French, of a fine quality. It exhilarated his brain far above the plain, distorted commonplaces of Loschwitz.
A rendezvous would be made for dinner, for instance, at some attractive spot up the Elbe. It would be a walking trip from Loschwitz along the winding banks or up on a higher path stretching from one smooth, low-lying hilltop to another. Everywhere the invigorating odor of pine lay in the air. The company assembled by twos or singly at their convenience during the late afternoon.
It is not so very long ago since this district of Saxony formed part of the Kingdom of Bohemia, and many names familiar to travellers in these parts recall memories of Slavonic inhabitants Blasewitz, Loschwitz, Pilnitz, whither the royal family of Wettin, another Slavonic name, was wont to retire for the summer months.
"I dare say," I answer, absently; then, in a low tone to myself, "why does not he smoke? it would be so easy then a smoking-cap, a tobacco-pouch, a cigar-holder, a hundred things!" "Is it quite settled about Loschwitz?" asks the young man, with an air of indifference. "Quite," say I, still not thinking of what I am saying. "That is, no not quite nearly a bag is useful, you know."
This hospitable and apparently harmless domicile was, in reality, like a martial encampment. Gard could not but conclude that he would have to leave Loschwitz. How could he for a moment stay in face of these direct and hard-fisted attacks? And certainly Villa Elsa would not want to harbor a hog any longer.
Hence resulted the unfeelingness that Kirtley observed in the life about him in Loschwitz the roughness so little tempered with affection, but, instead, frankly interpreted and exhibited as the true bearing of the dominant male's masculine nobility. Quite normally, then, came about the extensive amount of open and violent quarreling which Gard noticed in the households.
"I wanted to ask you to buy a ticket for our Waitress Dance, and I did not know at all where you lived." It was a long sentence for her and she giggled. "Number 5, Wiesenstrasse, Loschwitz." "Gott im Himmel! That's way off." "When is your dance?" "It's to-night. And it's only twelve marks." She fumbled out a ticket from beneath her white apron with a maid's agitation. "I'll take it," said Gard.
Indeed, I might almost say that much of his subsequent abuse of me sounded more like the strangely perverted plaints of a love that met with no response. For my holiday this year I went, early in September, to Fischer's vineyard, near Loschwitz, not far from the famous Firidlater vineyard, where, somewhat late in the year, I rented a summer residence.
And so, toward the end of his year, he was physically not far from where he had been on coming to Deutschland for the sake of its inspiring virilities. He had plenty of time to wonder how he had got back to Loschwitz from the Waitress Dance. He never inquired, never learned. But Fritzi alone knew his address. He had no recollection of anything. He went through his pockets.
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