I'm not going to cry--I'm not, I'm not--I'll reach that street if it kills me!" Meanwhile in his office Greesheimer was still staring, first at the door and then at the window, and upon his pudgy countenance was a glare of utter astonishment and honest indignation.
"Mein Gott!" he exploded.

"I give her a hug--a hug like a daughter--and off like a rocket--off she goes!" And in Yiddish and in Hebrew and Russian and American, Greesheimer expressed himself as he strode swiftly up and down.
For seven years without a break he had "kept a goil" more fascinating to his taste than any female in New York.

Her name was Sadie, she was a model in a dressmaker's shop uptown, and she owned him body and soul.
Their marriage had only been put off until he had bridged the dangerous time in the launching of his business.

For Greesheimer had a mother, an old uncle and a sister and two small nephews to support.

But this Zimmerman contract, "Gott sei danke!" would clear the way for marriage at once.