"Why, do you?"
"Well, I don't know—Eisenstecken has given it up for one—"
Maria dropped the baby into the little wooden cradle on the dresser, and began to furbish a brass skillet very vigorously.
—"But, if you don't," faltered he, "neither shall I; for, if my life is worth nothing to you, to me it is not of the value of a kreutzer."
"O Speckbacher!" cried she, suddenly flinging her arms about his neck.
"Well, what now?" said he; his eyes beginning to grow misty.
"How can you say such things?" sobbed Maria. "Not worth a kreutzer, indeed! You, the best Tyrolese that lives!—the father of a family—a married man—a responsible person—known and beloved by all—to talk of not being worth a kreutzer!—"
Here Anderl increased the effect by beginning to weep aloud, and with perseverance.
"Well," said Speckbacher, in a stifled voice, and drawing her very close to him, "you seemed to think I was deserting the cause—"