“Is she beautiful?” asked the Pole. “My wife was very beautiful. Ugh!”
“No, she’s not beautiful either,” answered the bookseller, “but nice-looking.”
“Have you seen her?” enquired the proprietor. “Is she old?” His eyes wandered towards the kitchen door.
“No, she’s young!”
“And her parents?” continued the proprietor.
“I heard that her father was a brass founder in Orebro.”
“The rascal! Well, I never!” said the proprietor.
“Haven’t I always said so? The man is a born husband,” said the bookseller.
“We all of us are,” said the proprietor, “and take my word for it, no one escapes his fate!”
With this philosophical remark he closed the subject and returned to the counter.