"I suppose, now, Mr. Twist--he must be completely sympathy--" interrupted Mr. Wangelbecker confidentially, leaning forward and lowering his voice a little. Anna-Felicitas gazed at him blankly. Some more people were coming in at the door, and behind them she could see on the path yet more, and Anna-Rose was in the pantry fetching the tea for the experts. "Would you mind telling me what I am to bring you?" she asked. "Because I'm afraid--" Mr. Wangelbecker turned his head in the direction she was looking. "Ah--" he said getting up, "but this is magnificent Güstchen, here are Mrs. Kleinbart and her sister--why, and there come the Diederichs--but splendid, splendid--" "Say," said Mr. Ridding, turning to Mr. Twist with a congested face, "ever been to Berlin?" "No," said Mr. Twist, annoyed by a question of such wanton irrelevance flung into the middle of his sentence. "Well, it's just like this." "Like this?" repeated Mr. Twist. "Those there," said Mr. Ridding, jerking his head. "That lot there--see 'em any day in Berlin, or Frankfurt, or any other of their confounded towns." "I don't follow," said Mr. Twist, very shortly indeed. "Germans," said Mr. Ridding. "Germans?" "All Germans," said Ridding. "All Germans?" "Wangelbeckers are Germans," said Mr. Ridding. "Didn't you know?" "No," said Mr. Twist. "So are the ones who've just come in." "Germans?" "All Germans. So are those behind, just coming in." "Germans?" "All Germans." There was a pause, during which Mr. Twist stared round the room. It was presenting quite a populous appearance. Then he said slowly, "Well I'm damned." And Mr. Ridding for the first time looked pleased with Mr. Twist. He considered that at last he was talking sense. "Mr. Twist," he said heartily, "I'm exceedingly glad you're damned. It was what I was sure at the bottom of my heart you would be. Shake hands, sir." CHAPTER XXXII That evening depression reigned in The Open Arms.