"All the better--that is something to begin with. If I add my own fortune"--Mr. Timm felt in his pocket and produced a few coins--"we have three hundred and twenty-five dollars, seventeen silber-groschen and eightpence. That is quite a capital."
"We shall buy for it a little house."
"Of course."
"I shall give lessons in French."
"Of course."
"And you will be industrious and work."
"Comme un forçat--oh, it is going to be a charming life," and Mr. Timm seized the little Frenchwoman around the waist and waltzed her around in the bower in which they were chatting.
"I must go in now, to give the servants their supper," said Marguerite, withdrawing herself.
"Then run, you little monkey, and come back again as soon as you can," said Mr. Timm.
He looked after her as she ran away. "Stupid little woman," he said; "really thinks I am going to marry her. What a fool I should be--for three hundred dollars! Formerly I lost as much at play in a night. It is grand, what these girls fancy; and yet this one is not as stupid as she looks, and seems to have studied the great Goethe, in spite of her horrible jargon, to some advantage: 'Yield to no thief, but with the ring on your finger.' Hm, hm! I shall have to buy her a wedding-ring, after all! The three hundred dollars would not be so bad! These abominations of creditors! Not even here they leave me alone."