But Betsy had caught John surreptitiously saving—to buy the roof, he explained!
“We—we’re gitting old, you know,” he excused.
“Old!—”
Betsy caught up her dainty skirts—very high—and pirouetted before him.
“Ein’, tswei, drei’, un’ fier. Dass macht sivve’—”
She stopped a moment.
“John! Don’t you remember Eisenkrantz’s husking—where I first saw you? Oh, John, what a gawk you were! And yit—and yit—John, do you remember how you danced that night? Come!”
She pulled him about with her in a very clumsy attempt at waltzing. Then she pushed him off.
“Oh, you are gitting old. But me—”
A few more mad whirls and she flung herself into his arms.