There is always trouble where you go." She glanced at his broad face, and read nothing there.
"Go on," she said.

"What have I been doing now?
How you do hate me, Herr Steinmetz!" "Perhaps it is safer than loving you," he answered, with his grim humor.
"I suppose," she said, with a quaint little air of resignation which was very disarming, "that you have come here to scold me--you do not want any tea ?" "No; I do not want any tea." She turned the wick of the spirit-lamp, and the peaceful music of the samovar was still.

In her clever eyes there was a little air of sidelong indecision.

She could not make up her mind how to take him.

Her chiefest method was so old as to be biblical.