We
had not taken our clothes off for sixteen days and had been in the
dirtiest of places. A change of underclothing was effected. None too
soon! for at Lieva Rieka we had picked up lice.
We compared notes on this part afterwards. "Happy hunting?" we inquired
like Mowgli's friends. It was good to sit by the big kitchen stove
holding bits of dripping clothing to the blaze; the downfall at Cettinje
the evening before having completely drenched our damp things again.
Next day outside the world was white and silent, the snow covering the
little city and its intrigues with a thick whitewash.
The minister was the kindest of hosts and could not do enough for us
during our stay. Cettinje had not changed much. The hotel-keeper showed
an intense and violent anxiety to leave Montenegro. Never had his native
Switzerland seemed so alluring and never was it so unattainable. The
chemist, who owned a little one-windowed shop, was engaged to the king's
niece, quite a lift in the world for her, as she was marrying a man of
education.
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