"Not always; you don't call Julius, Herr Julius."
"To be sure not, you silly; who is Julius? He is only my cousin."
"That's just so unfair. He's a benighted ass, who, I'll be bound, doesn't know the colour of your eyes, or which side the dimple is, and you treat him better than those who do—(a pause)—yes, who do—who do quite well."
"Oh, I hate my dimple; my brothers are always worrying me about it."
"I'll stop that, but you must drop the Herr."
"No, I certainly won't. Do you want to be a child?"
"No, Helene, you are the child and I am the man; that I will show you"——
And with that I started off again viciously.
"Ach, Herr Felix—no, I mean Felix, I didn't say I wouldn't."
Another diabolic spurt that made the sledge twist and quiver. She clutched its wooden sides for safety, and cried out to the young fiend behind: