Dirk Brandt saw a good deal of Max von Bodenheim in the ensuing weeks, and sometimes he strolled beside the chair along the quays in the morning sunlight; it was a favourite resort of the German’s. After a time von Bodenheim would dismiss the servant, Dirk would lean on the push-bar at the back of the chair and ask endless questions merely to evoke von Bodenheim’s caustic comments. One morning they went as far as the New Bridge, which was being built at that time by British prisoners of war to replace the old Bridge of Boats.
“There are some of your cousins,” said von Bodenheim.
“They are not my cousins,” said Dirk in an obstinate tone.
“They are an arrogant race of bandits,” said von Bodenheim, “and one day soon we will smash them. They cannot be allowed to dominate practically every p
