Therese had come to the end of her patience. "Listen, Theodor. I do not know whether to-day is your fête or not, but one thing I do know, that it is not Noémi's birthday. And yet more surely I know that Noémi will not marry you, if you were the only man on God's earth."
"Ha! ha! leave that to me—I am not afraid."
"Just as you like; but now, once for all, you shall never have my splendid nut-trees, if Noah's ark was to be built of them. One single tree I will give you, and that you can use for the end you will come to sooner or later. You say to-day is your fête-day, and that would be a good day to do it."
At these words Theodor rose, but not to go on his way—only to turn the chair he had been sitting on, and place himself astride on it, with his elbows on its back, and looking into Therese's eyes he said with provoking coolness—
"I must say you are very kind, Mamma Therese; you seem to have forgotten that if I say one word—"
"Say it then! You can speak freely before this gentleman: he knows everything."
"And that this island does not belong to you?"
"Yes."
"And that it would only cost me one word, either at Vienna or Constantinople—"
"To make us homeless and shelterless and beggars."