Gertrude.
Oh, of course; but do you love me more to-day?
George.
I love you always, my pet!
Gertrude.
[Softly and with emotion.] But you usually call me "little one," and to-day nothing but "darling."
Brauer.
Now, then, Pastor, we are ready for the toast! Take up your glass, and fire away!
Pastor.
I am afraid it will be hardly as wicked and heathenish as you seem to expect.