A COMPATRIOT Krumerweg was indeed a crooked way.

It formed a dozen elbows and ragged half-circles as it slunk off from the Adlergasse.

Streets have character even as humans, and the Krumerweg reminded one of a person who was afraid of being followed.

The shadow of the towering bergs lay upon it, and the few stars that peered down through the narrow crevice of rambling gables were small, as if the brilliant planets had neither time nor inclination to watch over such a place.

And yet there lived in the Krumerweg many a kind and loyal heart, stricken with poverty.