Norberg glanced up quickly as I entered the city
room. "Get something good on that south side story?" he
asked.
"Why, no," I answered. "You were mistaken about
that. The--the nice old maid is not going to move, after
all."
CHAPTER XV
FAREWELL TO KNAPFS
Consternation has corrugated the brows of the aborigines.
Consternation twice confounded had added a wrinkle or two
to my collection. We are homeless. That is, we are
Knapfless--we, to whom the Knapfs spelled home.
Herr Knapf, mustache aquiver, and Frau Knapf, cheek
bones glistening, broke the news to us one evening just
a week after the exciting day which so changed Bennie's
life. "Es thut uns sehr, sehr leid," Herr Knapf had
begun. And before he had finished, protesting German
groans mingled with voluble German explanations. The
aborigines were stricken down. They clapped pudgy fists
to knobby foreheads; they smote their breasts, and made
wild gestures with their arms. If my protests were less
frenzied than theirs, it was only because my knowledge of
German stops at words of six syllables.
Out of the chaos of ejaculations and interrogation
the reason for our expulsion at last was made
clear.
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