'Cathedral,' I understood."
"No my son, you did not mishear.
Cathedral it is."
I looked at him astonished.
"Don't stare; drive," said Gottfried.
"Very good."
We set off.
The cathedral lay in an old quarter of the city in an open place surrounded by houses of the clergy.
I stopped at the main door.
"Farther," said Gottfried; "right round."
He pulled me up outside a little doorway at the back and got out.
"Lots of fun," said I. "I take it you're going to confession."
"Come with me," he replied.
I laughed.
"Not to-day.
I've said my prayers already this morning.
That does me for the whole day."
"Don't talk silly, baby.
Come on.
I want to be generous and show you something."
I followed him curiously.
We passed through the little door and were immediately in the cloisters.
They made a large quadrangle and consisted of long rows of arches supported on the inner side by grey granite pillars; and they framed a garden.
In the middle rose up a large, weatherworn cross with the figure of Christ.
At the sides on stone reliefs were depicted the Stations of the Cross.
In front of each picture was an old praying bench.
The garden had run wild and flowered over and over.
Gottfried pointed to a couple of immense white and red rosebushes.
"I wanted to show you that.
Do you recognise them?"
Surprised, I halted.
"Of course I recognise them," said I. "So this is where you glean, you old church-robber."
When Pat had moved into Frau Zalewski's a week ago Lenz had sent her in the evening, by Jupp, an immense bunch of roses.
There had been so many that Jupp had had to go down twice, and each time returned with both arms full.
I had already given myself a headache trying to think wherever Gottfried could have got them; for I knew his rule, never to buy flowers.
I had never seen them in the city park.
"That is a real idea," said I, appreciatively. "Takes a man to think of that."
Gottfried beamed.
"The garden here is a proper gold mine."
He laid a hand gaily on my shoulder.
"I hereby take you into partnership.
I imagine you'll be able to make good use of it just now."
"Why just now?" I asked.
"Because the park is pretty bare.
And that's been your hunting ground to date, I think?"
I nodded.
"Besides," continued Gottfried, "you're coming now to the time when the difference between a bourgeois and a cavalier begins to show.
A bourgeois always gets less attentive the longer he knows a woman.
A cavalier, always more attentive." He made an extended gesture. "With all this you can become an absolutely staggering cavalier."
I laughed.