"I am always surprised, Blasi," said Judith, looking up from her work, "to see you in company with a fellow, who steals your money from your pockets, before you know it is there. I would not have anything to do with such a one."
"What? who?" asked Blasi, fumbling in his empty pockets. "Who picks my pockets? Who are you talking about? I know I did have some; I wish you would tell me the thief."
"I'll tell no tales," said Judith, working away.
"Bah! tell me, won't you? A fellow can't defend himself unless he knows who is attacking him," growled Blasi. "You might say who you mean."
"Well, I will. Go and take him by the ear. His name is Idleness!" As Judith spoke, she raised her head, and looked Blasi full in the face; then she bent to her work again.
The lad was angry. He had hoped that he was going to get something back of which he had been robbed, and that Judith would help him as she had been a witness of the theft.
"Oh, what a fuss you make over a few minutes," he said crossly; "I have to go at four o'clock to ring the bell. I think I ought to take a little from the old man."
"I should say you took more from him than he had. It has just struck half past two; do you know how many minutes there are in an hour and a half?"
"There's no getting along with you," said Blasi, turning away.
"Well, you get along finely without me, so go on and prosper," said Judith quickly as the lad disappeared.