"Well, Hans," she replied, "I would not have restrained you, if it had really been your wish. It is true, I do not know how I could have stood it. I can no longer imagine my life without you. But if your happiness had depended on it--"
"My happiness? That depends only on you!" protested the crafty fellow, endeavoring to conceal a blush. "You should have heard the general's wife comparing my unworthiness and your superiority. But you did you not become a little jealous?"
"Of whom? Of the old Russian?"
"Old? With that hair and complexion!"
"Oh, you blind Hans!" she cried, laughing, as she pulled his hair; "then you did not see that this dangerous Muscovite was powdered over and over, and had a thick false braid? But even if everything were all right about her, do you believe I would not trust myself to hold my own with her? And then the Tiber may be a perfectly beautiful river but it is certainly not to be compared with the Tauber!"