a wicked thing to say to me on such a day as this!
It is a thing that might do me great harm in this
city of which I am a Councillor."

"It is not a thing that I should say to any one
but you," returned the old man. "But nevertheless
it is true. We have not very often met -- but every
time we have met you have spoken in a disagreeable,
a derogatory, a jeering way of what is now your
country."

"And you," said Mr. Hegner, his eyes flashing,
"have often spoken to me in a derogatory, a jeering,
a disagreeable way of Germany -- of the country where
we were each born, of our real Fatherland."

"It is not of Germany that I speak ill," said the
older man wearily; "it is of what a few people have
made of my beloved country. Today we see the
outcome of their evil doings. But all that is transitory.
I am an old man, and yet I hope to see a free
Germany rise up."

He walked through into the shop, and beckoned
to his wife. Then they both turned towards the door
through which they had gained admittance earlier in
the evening.

Mr. Hegner smoothed out his brow, and a mechanical
smile came to his lips. He was glad the
old Socialist had cleared out early. It is not too
much to say that Manfred Hegner hated Frohling.
He wondered who would get the German barber's
job. He knew a man, a sharp, clever fellow, who
like himself had lived for a long time in America --
who was, in fact, an American citizen, though he
had been born in Hamburg -- who would be the very
man for it. Perhaps now was scarcely the moment

[[77]]

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