"Has she any money?" he asked acutely.
"I don't think so," replied the bookseller, conscious of his temporary
importance and selling his wares one by one.
"Is she beautiful?" asked the Pole. "My wife was very beautiful. Ugh!"
"No, she's not beautiful either," answered the bookseller, "but
nice-looking."
"Have you seen her?" enquired the proprietor. "Is she old?" His eyes
wandered towards the kitchen door.
"No, she's young!"
"And her parents?" continued the proprietor.
"I heard that her father was a brass founder in Orebro."
"The rascal! Well, I never!" said the proprietor.
"Haven't I always said so? The man is a born husband," said the
bookseller.
"We all of us are," said the proprietor, "and take my word for it, no
one escapes his fate!"
With this philosophical remark he closed the subject and returned to
the counter.
When they had settled that the schoolmaster was not marrying for money,
they discussed the problem of "what the young people were going to live
on." The bookseller made a guess at the schoolmaster's salary and "what
he might earn besides by giving private lessons." When that question,
too, had been settled, the proprietor, who had returned to the table,
asked for details.
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