"Not one," he said with an emphasis which sternly rebuked the ill-timed, and, as he deemed, untruthful flattery. "There is not his like, go where you will."
"Ah, how you have exalted him above all that is to be worshiped!" sighed the good woman, putting her hands together, and really as troubled and sympathetic, and cool and calculating, as she seemed to be.
"I tell you I have never seen his equal! Look at this place here—hasn't he called it up out of the dust?"
"Yes, yes, he did. He made it all," she said. "It must be conceded that Albert Spener is a great man—in Spenersberg."
"How, then, can I keep back from him the best I have when he asks for it —asks for it as if I were a king to refuse him what he wanted if I pleased? I would give him my life!"
"Ah, Frederick, you have! It isn't you that denies now—think of that! Remind him of it. Who spoke by the lot? Where are you going, husband?"
Mr. Loretz had turned away from the piazza rail and picked up his hat. His wife's question arrested him. "I—I thought I would speak with Brother Wenck," said he, somewhat confused by the question, and looking almost as if his sole purpose had been to go beyond the sound of his wife's remonstrating voice.
"Husband, about this?"
"Yes, Anna."
"Don't go. What will he think?"