"Where?" cried the Herr Professor. "Oh yes, I see, by the kitchen chimney.
But why do you say 'Japanese'? Could you not compare them with equal
veracity to a little flock of German thoughts in flight?" He rounded on
me. "Have you swallows in England?"

"I believe there are some at certain seasons. But doubtless they have not
the same symbolical value for the English. In Germany--"

"I have never been to England," interrupted Fraulein Sonia, "but I have
many English acquaintances. They are so cold!" She shivered.

"Fish-blooded," snapped Frau Godowska. "Without soul, without heart,
without grace. But you cannot equal their dress materials. I spent a week
in Brighton twenty years ago, and the travelling cape I bought there is not
yet worn out--the one you wrap the hot-water bottle in, Sonia. My lamented
husband, your father, Sonia, knew a great deal about England. But the more
he knew about it the oftener he remarked to me, 'England is merely an
island of beef flesh swimming in a warm gulf sea of gravy.' Such a
brilliant way of putting things. Do you remember, Sonia?"

"I forget nothing, mamma," answered Sonia.

Said the Herr Professor: "That is the proof of your calling, gnadiges
Fraulein. Now I wonder--and this is a very interesting speculation--is
memory a blessing or--excuse the word--a curse?"

Frau Godowska looked into the distance, then the corners of her mouth
dropped and her skin puckered. She began to shed tears.

"Ach Gott! Gracious lady, what have I said?" exclaimed the Herr Professor.