Baroness Orczy

“ He beckoned to Rosenstein, and the Jew, hastily finishing his wine, came near with that humble obsequiousness, and deferential smile, those of his race have, for centuries, been taught to wear.
“Well, old scarecrow! tired of waiting, eh?” said András, genially. “Hey! hey! pretty women will take up such a lot of a fellow’s time, and I have wasted so precious little of it that way, in my life, that I have a great deal of love-making to do, before I have my full share of the best side of this world. ”

“ I could not show as much as a pinch on my arm, so I wore my sleeves long to hide my shame.”
“There! there! my pretty flower,” said András, consolingly, “leave off crying, and promise to dance every csárdás with me next Sunday, and I will swear that I will squeeze that slim waist of yours so tightly, and look so deeply into your bright eyes, that Kálmán will break his stick across your pretty back for jealous rage. Come, bring out some wine for that old scarecrow of a Jew, over there; he looks hot and thirsty, and I want some talk with him, which I cannot do if his mouth is parched and dry. ”

“ The Jew himself was in rare good humour; András’ merry laugh was very infectious, and Rosenstein, between his thin lips, made a low, chuckling little noise, which might have passed off for a laugh.
The young peasant pushed jugs and bottles on one side. Wine is heating, and when talking to a Jew the head must be kept very cool; a pipe only is always a good friend and counsellor, and András, throwing back the wide lawn sleeves of his shirt, leant both elbows on the table, and having filled his long cherry-wood pipe:
“I am listening,” he said to the Jew. ”