WIFE. I—I know nothing at all!
ROSE. Oh, you don't? Haven't you asked him even? [She begins to ransack the bag] But I—I can see that he is going far away, because here is his passport. Very far, I am sure! How far, do you think?—Oh, Mrs. Olga, why can't you be nice to him, when he is so kind to you?
[She throws herself weeping into the arms of Mrs. Brunner.
WIFE. Now, now, my dear child! Poor little girl—is she crying? Poor, innocent heart!
ROSE. I like Mr. Axel so much!
WIFE. And you are not ashamed of saying so to his own wife? And you want me to console you—you, who are my little rival?—Well, have a good cry, my dear child. That helps a whole lot.
ROSE. [Tearing herself away] No! If I don't want to cry, I don't have to! And if it suits me to pick up what you are throwing away, I'll do so!—I don't ask any one's permission to like anybody or anything!
WIFE. Well, well, well! But are you so sure that he likes you?
ROSE. [Throwing herself into the elder woman's arms again, weeping] No, I am not.
WIFE. [Tenderly, as if talking to a baby] And now perhaps you want me to ask Mr. Axel to like you? Is that what Mrs. Olga has to do?