The concierge smiled.

He understood.

_Americaner_ or _Ehrensteiner_, the young fellows were all the same.
"Police at the gates," mused Carmichael, as he soaked his head and face in cold water.

"By George, it looks as if my friend the vintner was in for some excitement! Far be it that I should warn him.

He had his little joke; I can wait for mine." Gretchen! Carmichael stopped, his collar but half-way around his throat.
Gretchen, brave, kindly, beautiful Gretchen! Now, by the Lord, that should not be! He would wring the vintner's neck.