Scene 2
Karl (enters).
Good-morning, mother. Now, Clara, how would you fancy me, suppose I weren’t your brother?
Clara.
A gold chain? Where’ve you got that?
Karl.
What do I toil and sweat for? Why do I work two hours longer than the others every night? I like your cheek.
Mother.
Quarrelling on a good Sunday morning? For shame, Karl.
Karl.
Mother, haven’t you got a couple of shillings for me?
Mother.
I’ve only got money for house-keeping.
Karl.
Well, give me some of that. I won’t grumble if the pancakes are a bit thin for the next fortnight. You’ve done it many a time before. I know that. When you were saving up for Clara’s white dress, there was nothing tasty on the table for months. I closed my eyes to it, but I knew very well that a new hat or some show-piece was on the way. Let me have the benefit of it for a change.
Mother.
You are impudent.
Karl.
Well, I’ve no time now, or else——(going).
Mother.
Where are you going?
Karl.
I won’t tell you. Then you won’t need to blush when the old grizzly asks where I’ve gone. Tell him you don’t know. I don’t want your money either. It’s a good job there’s water in more wells than one. (Aside.) They always think the worst of me at home, anyway. Why shouldn’t I keep them on the tremble, just for fun? Why should I tell them that I shall have to go to church now, unless somebody helps me out?