“Oh,” she cries, half rising and clasping her hands in intense appeal, “is it true? Is she indeed so near me? Shall I have her back?”
“Yes, yes.” Mamma grows impatient, “Sign this and then—”
Franz leans forward and puts one finger upon the folded paper.
“Once agin,” says he sharply, “what’s that?”
“It’s a simple little paper, Franzy,” breaks in Papa reassuringly, “jest to ’stablish our innocence, in case your new wife should happen to forgit her promise. It’s nothing that’ll affect you.”
“Umph,” grunts Franz, eyeing the pair suspiciously, “that’s it, is it.” Then, turning to Leslie: “Read that paper, gal.”
But Papa puts out his hand.
“It’s only a little form, my dear boy.”
“Wal,” with growing aggressiveness, “let her read the little form.”
“It’s only a waste o’ time,” breaks in Mamma impatiently, “an’ the sooner it’s signed, the sooner she’ll—”