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THE TREACHERY OF THE SKIPPING ROPE
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inging thus, they reached a quaint little village, consisting of one street.
"This is Weidenbach," explained Gesima.
At the entrance stood Hänsli, legs apart, and apparently feeling very hostile. He was eating a piece of bread and at once began making faces at them, hoping to arouse their jealousy. But the approach of the dangerous cannoneer caused him to steal prudently round the corner, leaving the coast clear, and the allies entered Weidenbach. Their noses were greeted by the appetizing fragrance of meat broth and water cress, they heard a clatter of plates and spoons from cool rooms behind drawn shades, and there was a foreign sort of aroma from a glove and hat shop which the sun never entered, a mouldy smell. At the end of dark passages they caught glimpses of nooks in sunny court-yards, reminding them of delightful corners in Sentisbrugg, only with a difference, of
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