"Eh, what—what, my dear?" he exclaimed, sitting up. "It's Rosa, is it? Ah! How beautiful you look, Rosa! But those furs—were they very expensive, my dear?"
"They were rather," the girl admitted complacently, "but I'm earning good money and I want to get married."
"To get married, my dear," the old man repeated, a little vaguely. "Well, well, you find some young man with good prospects, and money—money in his hand, mind——"
"I've found the young man I'd like to marry," Rosa interrupted. "He's your assistant down there."
Abraham Letchowiski stretched out his hands in protest. He shook his head vigorously.
"No, no, my tear!" he cried. "You cannot marry him. He is just a journeyman repairer. He has no money saved. He spends too much on his clothes."
"He's a clever workman, isn't he?"
"Oh, he is clever," the old man admitted, "very clever indeed, but there are many clever people in the world who have not much money."
"Look here," the girl expostulated, "you're going to leave David and me your money, aren't you? You've no one else?"
"But I have not much," the old man whined, "and I may live quite some time yet."