"It is for you to prove, Herr."
"Read this."
It was the cutting. The vintner read it, his brows drawn together in a puzzled frown. He turned the slip over carelessly. The sub-chief's eyes bored into him like gimlets.
"I can make nothing of this, Herr. When I cut this out of the paper it was to preserve the notice on the other side." The vintner returned the cutting.
The sub-chief read aloud:
"Vintners and presses and pruners wanted for the season. Find and liberal compensation. Apply, Holtz."
Gretchen laughed joyously; the vintner grinned; the sub-chief swore under his breath.
"The devil fly away with you both!" he cried, making the best of his chagrin. "And when you marry, don't invite me to the wedding."
After they had gone, however, he called for an assistant.
"Did you see that young vintner?"