"Well?" she said. "You're not shocked, are you? Why, he's seventeen, Herr Schmidt. And you know if they don't dine till—say—eight o'clock, he can't very well be in by half-past ten, now, can he? Isn't it very rude to rush away as soon as you've eaten all you want? I'm sure I've seen that it is—in a copy-book or somewhere."
"You will, perhaps, do me the great honour of waiting in my room, Fräulein?" he asked, giving up the other question in despair.
"I can't, thanks. I want to hear him come, so that I can stop his knocking, you see."
"I will leaf my door open to gif you a little light, hein?"
"All right, thanks; you might, if you don't mind."
He stood looking down on her in obvious trouble.
"You will be angry if I tell you not to be naughty to your aunt?"
"Oh, no, I won't. It amuses me, Herr Schmidt."
He sighed, and retired to his room. In a few minutes he reappeared, beaming over his spectacles at her.
"See, I haf ze sweets. Young laties like ze sweets, hein?"