HUSBAND. My dear child, I meant only to give you an innocent kiss on the brow.
ROSE. Innocent? Ha-ha! Yes, very innocent!—And you believe those fairy-tales mother tells about father, who died several years ago! That was a man, I tell you, who knew how to love, and who dared to make love! He didn't tremble at the thought of a kiss, and he didn't wait until he was asked! If you won't believe me, come with me into the attic, and I'll let you read the letters he wrote to his mistresses.... Come! [She opens the papered door, so that the stairs leading to the attic become visible] Ha-ha-ha! You're afraid that I am going to seduce you, and you look awfully surprised ... surprised because a girl like me, who has been a woman for three years, knows that there is nothing innocent about love! Do you imagine that I think children are born through the ear? Now I can see that you despise me, but you shouldn't do that, for I am neither worse nor better than anybody else.... I am like this!
HUSBAND. Go and change your dress before your mother comes, Miss Rose.
ROSE. Do you think I have such ugly arms? Or don't you dare to look at them?—Now I think I know why why your wife why you are so jealous of your wife!
HUSBAND. Well, if that isn't the limit!
ROSE. Look at him blush! On my behalf, or on your own? Do you know how many times I have been in love?
HUSBAND. Never!
ROSE. Never with a bashful fellow like you!—Tell me, does that make you despise me again?
HUSBAND. A little!—Take care of your heart, and don't put it where the birds can pick at it, and where it gets—dirty. You call yourself a woman, but you are a very young woman—a girl, in other words....
ROSE. And for that reason just for that reason.... But I can become a woman....