HUSBAND. Yes, that far have I been carried by my love—and by my virtue, which has embarrassed me by making me ridiculous.
WIFE. That's the end of everything between us two!
HUSBAND. So I suppose, as I can't make you jealous.
WIFE. No, I don't know what it is to be jealous—not even of Rose, who loves you to distraction.
HUSBAND. How ungrateful of me not to notice it! On the other hand, I have had my suspicions of the old Baroness, who is all the time finding excuses for visiting that big wardrobe over there. But as she is our landlady, and the furniture belongs to her, I may be mistaken as to the motive that makes our rooms so attractive to her.... Now I'll get dressed, and in half an hour I shall be gone—without any farewells, if you please!
WIFE. You seem rather afraid of farewells.
HUSBAND. Particularly when you are concerned in them!
He goes out. The WIFE remains alone a few moments. Then ROSE enters. She is carelessly dressed, and her hair is down. A scarf wrapped about her head and covering her cheeks and chin indicates toothache. There is a hole on the left sleeve of her dress, which ends half-way between her knees and her ankles.
WIFE. Well, Rose!—What's the matter, child?
ROSE. Good morning, Mrs. Brunner. I have such a toothache that I wish I were dead!