"Mother said you were too ill to have any breakfast, but I knew better, so I've brought you a cup of tea," she said, managing to suggest that she had brought it less because I might like it, than because the others had declared I shouldn't.
"Thank you, Rosa, I shall relish it."
"There. You see I was right, mother," she said, and I saw I had scored. "Are you really so bad, Johann? You always were a coward in bearing pain, you know."
"Rosa!" protested the mother.
"It's true, mother. If he knocked his little toe he always thought he'd have to have his whole foot cut off. And whoever heard of a man wanting to stay in bed for a toothache?"
Better and better, this. Unintentionally I had evidently forged an important link in the identification; and then came something better still, in response to another protest from the mother.
"Nonsense, mother, it's exactly what he would do," she exclaimed sharply, and then turned again to me. "Mother thinks you're awfully altered, but I don't see it. Of course I haven't seen much of your face yet; but she always does take these queer fancies. Can't you take that thing off your face?"
"I think I'll drink the cup of tea," I replied, and drew the bandage down a little and put the cup to my lips.
To my astonishment she burst out laughing and clapped her hands. "How silly you are, mother. Why the thing's as plain as plain. He's had his teeth taken out, and that accounts for the difference you made such a fuss about. They used to stick out like this;" and she put her fingers in front of her own mouth to illustrate. "Don't you remember how we noticed the same thing when Mrs. Hopping had it done? It's made you quite passable, Johann," she declared.
"Is that it, Johann?" asked the mother, smiling.