'I should look foolish if I were.'

'Precisely. That is the idea. When she leaves the workshop in the
evening follow her, and as she passes the cake-shop, sigh and ask her
if she will not eat a "stuffed monkey" for the sake of peace-be-upon-him
times.'

'But she won't.'

'Why not? She is still in love.'

'With stuffed monkeys,' said Elias cynically.

'With you, too.'

Elias blushed quite easily. 'How do you know?'

'I offered her another man, and she slammed the door in my face!'

'You--you offered----' Elias stuttered angrily.

'Only to test her,' said Sugarman soothingly. He continued: 'Now, when
she has eaten the cake and drunk a cup of chocolate, too (for one must
play high with such a ring at stake), you must walk on by her side,
and when you come to a dark corner, take her hand and say "My
treasure" or "My angel," or whatever nonsense you modern young men
babble to your maidens--with the results you see!--and while she is
drinking it all in like more chocolate, her fingers in yours, give a
sudden tug, and off comes the ring!'

Elias gazed at him in admiration. 'You are as crafty as Jacob, our
father.'

'Heaven has not denied everybody brains,' replied Sugarman modestly.
'Be careful to seize the left hand.'

The admiring Elias followed the scheme to the letter.

Even the blush he had boggled at came to his cheeks punctually
whenever his sheep's-eyes met Fanny's. He was so surprised to find his
face burning that he looked foolish into the bargain.

They dallied long in the cake-shop, Elias trying to summon up courage
for the final feint. He would get a good grip on the ring finger. The
tug-of-war should be brief.

Meantime the couple clinked chocolate cups, and smiled into each
other's eyes.

'The good-for-nothing!' thought Elias hotly. 'She will make the same
eyes at the next man.'

And he went on gorging her, every speculative 'stuffed monkey'
increasing his nervous tension. Her white teeth, biting recklessly
into the cake, made him itch to slap her rosy cheek. Confectionery
palled at last, and Fanny led the way out. Elias followed, chattering
with feverish gaiety. Gradually he drew up even with her.

They turned down the deserted Fishmonger's Alley, lit by one dull
gas-lamp. Elias's limbs began to tremble with the excitement of the
critical moment. He felt like a footpad. Hither and thither he
peered--nobody was about. But--was he on the right side of her? 'The
right is the left,' he tol