TEKLA. [Sniffing and taking notes] I think of nothing but myself— I am a dreadful egoist. But what has made you turn so philosophical all at once?
ADOLPH. Put your hand on my forehead.
TEKLA. [Prattling as if to a baby] Has he got ants in his head again? Does he want me to take them away, does he? [Kisses him on the forehead] There now! Is it all right now?
ADOLPH. Now it's all right. [Pause]
TEKLA. Well, tell me now what you have been doing to make the time go? Have you painted anything?
ADOLPH. No, I am done with painting.
TEKLA. What? Done with painting?
ADOLPH. Yes, but don't scold me for it. How can I help it that I can't paint any longer!
TEKLA. What do you mean to do then?
ADOLPH. I'll become a sculptor.