mirror over the sofa, and fidgeted with his fingers between his neck and stiff little collar.
"What astonishing memories these waiters have," he exclaimed. "Upon my word, he remembers that I always ordered Pilsener beer drawn in a glass with a lid—it is almost absurd! By the way, I also had a curious experience with a porter in Berlin.…"
He started to tell some anecdotes in order to pass the time until the waiter returned. I felt as if he was playing with me, like a cat with a mouse, and was almost inclined to get up and go away. From the adjoining room one heard the monotonous counting. A hoarse voice shouted—
"I am naughty,
You are naughty,
We are both naughty."
The waiter entered with the beer and disappeared immediately.
Stephensen lifted his tankard towards me, and took a long drink.
"Well," he started, "it was By the way, do you smoke?"
"Not so late in the evening," I answered, though I had a great desire to calm my nerves with tobacco; but my pouch was empty, and the thought of receiving anything from him filled me with disgust.
"Ah, you have principles," he observed, while he lighted his pipe. "Really, with principles, as with trunks when travelling, one ought not to drag about too many of them.… There are, for instance, art principles.… However, it was our concerns we were to talk about."
"Just so, I think it is time we began," I remarked irritably.… "Is there any way I can be of service to you?"
