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 bottles of wine, and was to have received them in the afternoon. Karl, he said, should drink his health and have a little souvenir of him.

He departed in the afternoon, and it was as if somebody had swept and aired the room; it was cleaner and pleasanter. These Viennese anti-Semites are a peculiar-people; they agree to every opinion and every utterance in a pleasant and affable manner, indeed, they themselves speak to a man according to what they think is his type; they adopt the attitude of realizing and understanding everything, and yet there are no greater dissemblers, sneaks and toadies than they are. Anybody who has that fortunate sixth sense for the emanation of character which proceeds from each man with whom they are speaking, is heartily sick of such a Viennese after a minute of his company, I was glad when the doors closed behind that man.

And they act meanly; when the caterer's weekly delivery was issued, Karl returned from the superintendent‘s office with empty hands and raged. "The lowhound. He waited there until the caterer came, and took his wine off with him."

Papa Declich smiled: "Fallot". Whenever the talkative sergeant had addressed him, he had never answered him; he had not understood because he did not want to understand. The sergeant had taken it good-humouredly and excused him with a shrug of the shoulders and the nick-name "Katzelmacher",—this being what the Viennese call the Italians.

Karl was furious throughout that Sunday; he said that the sergeant had received four weeks imprisonment for those cigarettes, and the four weeks had been deducted from his two months under arrest. That was why he had been discharged, and he was a "Gauner",