THE DAUGHTER. Yes, they were.
THE LAWYER. Well, I'll be——
THE DAUGHTER. What kind of language is that?
THE LAWYER. Pardon me, Agnes! But I have suffered as much from your lack of orderliness as you have suffered from dirt. And I have not dared to set things right myself, for when I do so, you get as angry as if I were reproaching you—ugh! Hadn't we better quit now?
THE DAUGHTER. It is very difficult to be married—it is more difficult than anything else. One has to be an angel, I think!
THE LAWYER. I think so, too.
THE DAUGHTER. I fear I shall begin to hate you after this!
THE LAWYER. Woe to us then!—But let us forestall hatred. I promise never again to speak of any untidiness—although it is torture to me!
THE DAUGHTER. And I shall eat cabbage though it means agony to me.
THE LAWYER. A life of common suffering, then! One's pleasure, the other one's pain!