“And my Katrine be another man’s frau!” continued the German, in a tone of disgust.
“You couldn’t blame her, you know,” said Gates, in a mischievous spirit. “Of course she couldn’t manage the children alone. I’m not married, and I might be willing to take her myself, that is, if anything happened to you.”
“You marry my Katrine!” exclaimed Herr Schmidt, almost speechless with indignation.
“I suppose you would prefer that a friend like me should marry her to a stranger, wouldn’t you, Herr Schmidt?”
“But I am not dead! I will not die!” roared Johann. “You shall not have her!”
“Oh, of course if you are not going to die, that makes a difference. You said you were, you know.”
“I have change my mind—I will go home to mein Katrine myself. She shall have no other husband.”
“Good for you! I like your pluck,” said Gates. “Give me your hand.”
But Herr Schmidt was offended.
“I will nicht give my hand to dem man who will wish to marry meine Katrine,” he said obstinately.