ries for him. He goes off with Haie and Leer so that they won’t find him in the first flush of the excitement.
★★
Müller hasn’t finished yet. He tackles Kropp again.
“Albert, if you were really at home now, what would you do?”
Kropp is contented now and more accommodating:
“How many of us were there in the class exactly?”
We count up: out of twenty, seven are dead, four wounded, one in a mad-house. That makes twelve privates.
“Three of them are lieutenants,” says Müller.
“Do you think they would still let Kantorek sit on them?”
We guess not: we wouldn’t let ourselves be sat on for that matter.
“What do you mean by the three-fold theme in ‘William Tell’?” says Kropp reminiscently, and roars with laughter.
“What was the purpose of the Poetic League of Göttingen?” asks Müller suddenly and earnestly.
“How many children had Charles the Bald?” I interrupt gently.
84
