Page:Storm Over Paris.pdf/160

"No, I'm all alone." He smiled bashfully. "Neither kith nor kin."

"And where do you live?"

"Well, you see, I do business all over the provinces. So I'm never really in the same place for any length of time. I only get into Paris for the Sabbath. I like to hear a good Cantor, besides this is where I buy my merchandise. Do you understand, Mademoiselle?"

"Indeed I do, Monsieur!" Rose laughed merrily, her mouth wide open and her white teeth glistening in the electric light.

Her companion laughed too, and for the first time he showed enough courage to look directly at Rose's face.

"You're so sunburned," Rose continued. "Monsieur-"

"Shechter-" he volunteered.

"Oh yes, Shechter." Rose let a warm smile play over her face. Her fingers opened and closed the button at the point of her low décolletage.

Her companion lowered his glance. It was apparent that his hands were suddenly in the way and that he didn't know what to do with them. First he thrust them in his pocket, then between his knees, then on his head, back of his neck, again in his pocket, until he finally folded them over his chest.

"Yes, exactly like my father," Rose thought again.

"You know, Mademoiselle," Monsieur Shechter ventured, "your father has told me a good deal about you."

"Really? How interesting it would be to hear what he told you." Rose edged a little closer to him, until she could feel the light quiver of his knee.

"Oh, he told me quite a lot."

"What? Please tell me." The red-headed Rose took her cavalier's arm.