"Ruby, I learn you right away—we always got to save mamma the heel of the bread, 'cause she likes it."
Miss Cohn smiled and regarded Mr. Ginsburg from the left corner of each eye.
"I wasn't so slow learning the shoe business, was I, Abe?"
"You look at me so cute-like, and I'll come over to you right this minute! Look at her, mamma, how she flirts with me—just like it wasn't all settled."
"Abie, pass Ruby the beans. Honest, for a beau, you don't know nothing—your papa was a better beau as you. Pass her the beans. Don't you see she ain't got none? You two with your love-making! You remind me of me and poor papa; he—he—"
"Now, mamma, don't you go getting sad again like a funeral."
"I ain't, Abie. I'm—so happy—for you."
"To-night we just play, and to-morrow mamma decides when we get married—not, Ruby? We do like she wants it—to-night we just play. Ruby, pass your glass and mamma's, and we drink to our three selves with claret."
Mr. Ginsburg poured with agitated hand, and the red in his face mounted even as the wine in the glass.
"To the two grandest women in the world! May we all be happy and prosperous from to-night!" Mr. Ginsburg swung his right arm far from him and brought his glass round to his lips in a grand semi-circle. "To the two grandest women in the world!"