He rose as soon as he could muster the courage. ``I must get
back and help Schwartz open up,'' he said, looking round
forlornly. ``It's five o'clock.''

``You must stay to coffee,'' insisted Mrs. Brauner. It should
have been served before, but Mr. Feuerstein's exhibition had
delayed it.

``No--I must work,'' he replied. ``It's five o'clock.''

``That's right,'' said Brauner with an approving nod. ``Business
first! I must go in myself--and you, too, Hilda.'' The late
Sunday afternoon opening was for a very important trade.

Hilda blushed--the descent from the romantic to the practical
jarred upon her. But Mr. Feuerstein rose and took leave most
graciously. ``May I return this evening?'' he said to Brauner.

``Always glad to see our friends,'' answered Brauner with a
shamefaced, apologetic look at Otto.

At seven o'clock that evening Otto, just closing his shop, saw
Mr. Feuerstein and Hilda pass on their way toward Tompkins
Square. A few minutes later Sophie came along. She paused and
tried to draw him into conversation. But he answered briefly and
absently, gradually retreating into the darkness of his shop and
pointedly drawing the door between him and her. Sophie went on
her way downcast, but not in the least disheartened. ``When
Hilda is Mrs. Feuerstein,'' she said to herself.