"I don't see the joke," said Blasi crossly. "Dietrich has run away; she avoids Jost as if he were a nettle, and who else is there? Who is there for her to call upon if she wants help, hey?"
Judith was still snickering over the news.
"Now it's your turn," said Blasi, "tell me what it is that you're so pleased about."
"It is very much like yours, Blasi; come a little nearer," and she whispered in his ear, "I have him."
"Mercy on us!" cried Blasi. "You will be as rich as a Jew, for the cattle-dealer is worth more than half the people in Fohrensee, all put together."
"I'm not talking about the cattle-dealer."
"Pshaw! whom are you talking about then?"
"Somebody else, and I have him in such a fashion that he will not forget it in a hurry, I tell you!"
As she spoke, Judith made a gesture with her hands as if she were choking some one, who certainly would not escape alive from her clutches.
Blasi shook his head and walked on in silence. But in his inmost mind he thought, "I can't make anything out of her; her head is all in a buzz. But she's only a woman."