"I do not recollect seeing you here before."
"It was one of your assistants who originally went over the papers."
"What is your business?"
"I am a vintner by trade, Herr."
"And are there not plenty of vineyards in Bavaria?"
"We vintners," with an easy gesture, "are of a roving disposition. I
have been all along the Rhine and the Moselle. I prefer grapes to hops."
"But why Dreiberg? The best vineyards are south."
"Who can say where we shall go next? Dreiberg seemed good enough for
me," with a shy glance at Gretchen.
"Why did you jump out of the window?"
"I was frightened at first, Herr. I did not know that you merely
dispersed meetings. I believed that we were all to be arrested. Such
measures are in force in Munich."
"You accused him of being a Jugendheit spy," broke in Gretchen, who was
growing impatient under these questions, which seemed to go nowhere in
particular.
"You be silent," warned the sub-chief.
"I am here because of that accusation," said the vintner.
"What have you to say?"
"I deny it."
"That is easy to do. But can you prove it?"
"It is for you to prove, Herr."
"Read this."
It was the cutting. The vintner read it, his brows drawn together in a
puzzled frown. He turned the slip over carelessly.
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