Trast. They are strangers.--Come. You will excuse me, gentlemen? We are in a hurry. Goodbye.

Lothar. (_To_ Kurt) Now, I'll settle him. (_To_ Trast) Permit me just one more question, Count. (_Affectedly_) If you intend to do away with honor entirely; what do you expect gentlemen of honor to put in its place?

Trast. (_Straightening up_) Duty, young man--(_To himself_) This is certainly unpleasant, Gentlemen----

Kurt. (_As_ Trast _and_ Robert _are about to leave_) It was a great honor to our house, Count.

Robert. Pardon me, but you are Herr Kurt Muhlingk?

Kurt. That is my name?

Robert. (_Confused_) But--aren't--? Of course, you don't recognize me!

I am--(_He is about to offer his hand to_ Kurt)

Trast. (_Stepping between_) You don't shake hands with this man.

Robert. (_Looks about confused, stares at_ Kurt, _then at_ Trast, _then at_ Kurt _again, gives a little cry, then controls himself_) I should like to have a word with you--Herr Muhlingk--in private.

Kurt. As you see, I have some guests here now, but in an hour I shall be at your service.

Robert. In an hour, Herr Muhlingk!

Trast. (_To himself_) He found out quickly enough!

(Trast _and_ Robert _go to the door as_

THE CURTAIN FALLS.)

ACT III.

Scene:--_The same as in Act I. A lamp is burning on the table. Daylight is coming through the window. Up-stage to the left is a bed, turned down. It has not been slept in_. Robert _sits at the table his face in his hands_.

(_Enter_ Frau Heinecke _in night-cap and wearing a woollen under-skirt._)

Frau Heinecke. Good-morning, my son! (_He does not answer_) Poor thing!

he ain't even been to bed! (_Goes to him, wiping her eyes_) Bobby!

Robert. (_Starts up_) What is it? What do you want?

Frau Heinecke. Lord, how you yell at me! And your teeth are chattering with cold! Won't you drink some coffee? (_He shakes his head decisively_) Take a little piece of advice from your old mother, Bobby; even if a person is in trouble, he's got to sleep. Sleep puts marrow in the bones. (_Puts out the lamp_)

Robert. Mother, Mother, what have you done?

Frau Heinecke. (_Crying_) We aren't to blame, my boy!

Robert. Not to blame!

Frau Heinecke. I brought her up honorably. There has never been a bad example in this house. I kept her at her schooling and I had her confirmed, though that ain't even necessary any more. She went up to the altar in a new black pleated dress. I bought it myself at a bargain, and I put my own wedding handkerchief into her hand, and the preacher spoke so movin', so movin'.

Robert. But how could you allow her to have anything to do with that--fellow!

Frau Heinecke. Perhaps it wasn't really so bad----

Robert. What further proof do you want? Didn't he admit everything to me with the most brutal frankness? Or did Alma try to lie about it? And to cap the climax, last evening I was in Michalski's house. Everything was beautifully arranged. Your dear daughter Auguste had prepared a secret nest, with curtains and carpets and red hanging lamps. She kept watch at the door herself and was--paid, paid for it! The cur was in my hands yesterday. If I had only finished him then!

Frau Heinecke. Why, Robert----

Robert. Be still! He promised satisfaction. I accomplished that much at least. He saw I was ready for anything. He said he would find means of giving me satisfaction by to-day. I thought of the poor little girl's future and let him go.

Frau Heinecke. Well, I never suspected anything wrong.

Robert. You must have seen it coming. What did you think when he brought her home so late at night?

Frau Heinecke. When a person is asleep, he's glad enough he don't have to think. Besides, she had a latchkey.

Robert. But you couldn't neglect the fact that if he brought her home he must have met her somewhere in the city.

Frau Heinecke. Well, yes. I thought she was going with him.

Robert. I don't know what you mean.

Frau Heinecke. She was _going_ with him.

Robert. So you said, but I----

Frau Heinecke. Just like any young girl goes with a young gentleman.

Robert. Goes? Where?

Frau Heinecke. To concerts, to restaurants--If he's got money, to the theater, and in summer to Grunewald[7] or Treptow.[8]

Robert. Alone?

Frau Heinecke. Alone? (_Clacks her tongue_) No! With the young man!

Robert. I meant: without her parents?

Frau Heinecke. Certainly. Or do you expect the old mother is going to toddle after the young ones on her weak legs.

Robert. Mm! So you knew she "went" with him?

Frau Heinecke. No, I just thought so.