"Very well, make haste," he laughed, while his throat contracted in anxious suspense, "else I shall expire of hunger."
"The water must boil first, Herr."
"All right, we'll wait, then." He squatted on one of the wooden boxes. "And, Regina," he went on, "come here; do you know I am not satisfied with your appearance even now? Your hair----"
"I've not had time to comb it yet, Herr."
"Comb it now at once, then."
She flashed at him a look of shy entreaty.
"While you are here, Herr?" she asked hesitatingly.
"Why not? Have you become prudish all in a minute?"
"It wasn't that----"
"Then don't stand on ceremony."