“And that is quite enough,” said Ilse Natzler firmly. “We will have no more talk of crime. It is not suitable—not in Hietzing.”
Karl Natzler rose to his feet. “This evening, Macdonald, we take you out to the heights of the Wienerwald, to Cobenzl. You shall at last enjoy a Heurige, and we will drink the local vintages—Grinzinger and Gumpoldskirchner, and your holiday in Vienna will really begin.”
“Gott sei Dank,” exclaimed Ilse, and Macdonald added, “Und Lob. Amen.”
THE END