"And—and are there gambling places like that in England?" in a pause on his part.
"Ach, yes, Fräulein. In the bapers constantly one reads of the bolice appearing at the scene and taking them all to brison."
"Oh!" Nell jerked the ink pot suddenly and a few drops spattered her hand. Herr Schmidt produced blotting paper, and wiped the spots off carefully.
"Thank you very much." She rose and went to the door. "Good-bye, Herr Schmidt."
"Goot-bye. You, berhaps," with a curious, wistful glance over his spectacles that made him look like a great baby, "would not care to eat a biece of cake?"
"Not now, thank you. I—another time if I may."
The evening wore on slowly. Nell twice put her ear to the little clock on the mantel-shelf, thinking it must have stopped.
Molly, fathoms deep in "Monsieur Beaucaire," was blind and deaf to everything else, but Sheila Pat eyed Nell shrewdly.
"Can't you be sittin' still at all, Nell O'Brien?" she demanded impatiently.
Nell started and grew red.