"A glass of beer by all means," I answered, with as cheerful an indifference as was possible, though I felt as if somebody had proposed to drink poison with me.
"I suppose you also appreciate a good glass of Pilsener, or Münchener beer? As far as I am concerned I cannot stand our Danish beer any longer."
"No, it tastes more or less like water with gin in it."
"Quite my opinion! And that we are proud of! Well, à la bonheur, as the German says, anyhow it has brought us some statues.[1] Suppose we go to the 'Three Ravens'—very likely you also are known there?"
"No, I have only been there a few times."
"Really! I went there nearly every evening from the very same front door out of which you have just come. Perhaps you know that I lodged there? I had, of course, my own key, and therefore had not the opportunity of being seen out in the pleasant way you were. Speaking of that, do you know the expression, 'A genius, who never has had his own door key'? I find it very applicable to our Danish talents, I came across it the other day in one of our new authors. I suppose you are up to date in our new literature, are you not? Oh, one cannot deny there is a lot of 'go' in it, otherwise I read mostly French novels. Well, here we are at the 'Three Ravens,' they have been illuminated, that's something new. After you."
He stood aside for me to go first into the lighted corridor, and then he took me to the left through a billiard-room, where five or six men were playing in shirt sleeves, to a smaller room which was empty. Before we had taken off our overcoats, a very fat and pale waiter, with leg-of-
- ↑ A wealthy brewer in Copenhagen made the collecting of modern sculpture his hobby.
