This is bread-day," evasively.
"I promise to sit very quiet in a chair." Her laughter rippled; she was always close to that expression.

"You are a funny man.

Come in, then; but mind, you will be dusty with flour when you leave." "I will undertake that risk," he replied, with a seriousness not in tune with the comedy of the situation.
Into the kitchen she led him.

She was moved with curiosity.

Why should any man wish to see a woman knead bread?
"Sit there, Herr." And she pointed to a stool at the left of the table.
The sunlight came in through the window, and an aureola appeared above her beautiful head.