The boy laughed forcedly, and shook his head.
"No," he said.
"Och, yes, no," his mother muttered.
"How's Pauline?" he asked.
"She's vell; she's to a dance."
He shivered as with cold.
"Isn't it late?" he asked.
"No," his mother replied. "She be home maype a hour; maype two hour."
Each seemed conscious of the infinite labor of the conversation.