“Ah, vell, vhen you are as old as I, those t’ings vill not vorry you.”
“Ah, but Herr, you are worried yourself—I can see it.”
“Vhat! Me vorried? Oh, my dear young lady, no; my composure is perfect—perfect.”
“You are worrying right now.”
“Over vhat, please?”
“Well, first you are wondering whether the confidence reposed by you in one Miss Dorothy Calvert will be justified when she faces a great audience for the first time in her life. Now, ’fess up, aren’t you, Herr Deichenberg?”
“No, no; I have not de slightest doubt of dat.”
“Then you are worrying because you fear some of the other numbers on the programme will not come up to your expectations. Now, aren’t you?”
“No, no, Miss Dorothy. No; I do not vorry—of course, there iss dat young lady who is to render de piano selections from ‘Faust’—er—yet, I have no cause to vorry. No, no, I—”
Dorothy interrupted with a laugh.