Israel Zangwill

“ The course of true love seemed to run straight to the Canopy—Fanny had already worked the bridegroom's praying shawl—when suddenly a storm broke. At first the cloud was no bigger than a man's hand—in fact, it was a man's hand. Elias espied it groping for Fanny's in the dim space between the two machines. As Fanny's fingers fluttered towards it, her other hand still guiding the cloth under the throbbing needle, Elias felt the needle stabbing his heart up and down, through and through. ”

“ Go on.'
'To-morrow in the workshop pretend to steal loving glances all day long when she's not looking. When she catches you——'
'But she won't be looking!'
'Oh, yes, she will. When she catches you, you must blush.'
'But I can't blush at will,' Elias protested. ”

“ Sugarman clucked his tongue. 'Tututu! Better if we had followed our old custom, and the man had worn the engagement-ring, not the woman!'
'In the workshop,' Elias went on miserably, 'she flashes it in my eyes. Everybody makes mock. Oh, the Jezebel!'
'I should summons her!'
'It would only cost me more. Is it not true I gave her the ring?'
Sugarman mopped his brow. His vast experience was at fault. No maiden had ever refused to return his client's ring ”