The fine Bavarian food arrives in short order. Great heaping platters for the two of us, accompanied by steins of the good, frothy stuff. Fir the kit, there is a bowl of milk and a small plate of sausages, broken into bite-sized bits. Pangur Ban pounces on the victuals and commences to devour the offering quite rapidly. We are not far behind, having spent a rather strenuous day.

As soon as we are finished, Kate makes her excuses. "I have ta be gettin' back to me own place, now. No tellin' how many customers we've been havin' at the Pub."

She thanks me politely for the dinner, and I offer to walk her back to the Market Place. I fetch my harp on the way out, and the cat follows, dutifully.