"And you really believe there is a chance?"
"A chance? A certainty!"
She leaned over and took his hands, saying with tears in her eyes:
"O Max, if it is only true!"
"There, there, read over the papers," he said nervously, withdrawing his hands. "If everything goes well I shall sell some of my restaurants and cinch the bargain. The papers are a formality—your consent to the sales in case they are made. Of course," he added with a shrug, "if nothing turns up I shan't sell."
"Oh, don't speak of such a thing!" she said with a superstitious shiver. "Where shall I sign?"
"There and there," he said, imposing his finger and hiding his eyes. "To-morrow we'll go before a notary and you can acknowledge your signature."
"And why that?" she said, signing carelessly.
"To show, my dear, that your signature is given willingly and not by compulsion."