Then she and Herr Knapf walk comfortably down to
the Pabst theater to see the German play by the German
stock company. They applaud their favorite stout, blond,
German comedienne as she romps through the acts of a
sprightly German comedy, and after the play they go to
their favorite Wein-stube around the corner. There they
have sardellen and cheese sandwiches and a great deal of
beer, and for one charmed evening Frau Knapf forgets all
about the insides of geese and the thickening for gravies,
and is happy.
Many of these things Frau Knapf herself told me,
standing there by the door with the Kuchen heavy on her
mind. Some of them I got from Ernst von Gerhard when I
told him about my visitor and her errand. The errand was
not disclosed until Frau Knapf had caught me casting a
despairing glance at my last typewritten page.
"Ach, see! you got no time for talking to, ain't it?"
she apologized.
"Heaps of time," I politely assured her, "don't
hurry. But why not have a chair and be comfortable?"
Frau Knapf was not to be deceived. "I go in a
minute. But first it is something I like to ask you.
You know maybe Frau Nirlanger?"
I shook my head.
"But sure you must know.
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