Baum was greatly agitated. He had at first only dallied with kind words, but his voice had gradually assumed an agitated and touching tone.
"I'll give you something," said Walpurga, placing her hand on his shoulder.
"What is it; a kiss?"
"Get out! Don't talk so. You've just been behaving so well. Now I'll tell you something that my mother taught me. She always says, that he who is not contented with what he has, would be dissatisfied even if he had what he wished for."
"Did your mother tell you that?"
"Yes, and she knows many other good sayings, and I am glad that this one will be of use to you; it'll do you good."
"Of course--but now give me just one kiss, because I've been so good."
"What a foolish fellow you are," said Walpurga; "you say you're good, and, the very next minute, want something wicked as a reward. I'm a married woman and, if you were to give me a whole palace with all that's in it and seven palaces besides, I'd not kiss any man but my husband. There, I'll shake hands with you--and now--good-night."
They parted, with a mutual promise to remain good friends.
Walpurga found Mademoiselle Kramer in great trouble. The child was crying, and would not be pacified until Walpurga sang to it.