Lenz had always his own peculiar reasons for everything. He never agreed to anything simply because it appeared to be so to others, but delayed his assent till he was convinced himself of the fact, and then he was thoroughly converted. Annele said nothing, but kept repeating the number she had arrived at, for fear of forgetting it. There were exactly one hundred and twenty gulden collected, deducting four bad smaller coins. Annele railed violently at those unprincipled men, who could deceive by giving base money. Lenz tried to pacify her by saying—"Don't say that—perhaps they were poor men who had nothing else to give," Annele's eyes flashed, and she replied testily:—"It appears that you know everything, and that I know nothing."
"I did not in the least mean that. Don't be so hasty."
"I never was ill-tempered in my life, and you are the first person that ever said so. Ask any one; and indeed you had pretty good proofs this very day what people think of me."
"Yes, yes! it is surely no use our quarrelling on such a subject."
"I am not quarrelling; and I am sure I don't care what the sum is—if it were only three farthings, it is all the same to me; but I don't choose to be snubbed every word I say."
"Now do be less hasty, Franzl will really think we are quarrelling."
"She may think just what she pleases; and it is just as well to tell you at once, that Franzl can't possibly stay in this house."
"You don't mean, I suppose, that she is to go tonight?"
"Not tonight, but either tomorrow or very soon."
"We will talk about it tomorrow; I am tired, and you said you were tired also."