JAMES. To me, sir, it's not a question of sentiment—of where her children shall play, so long as they play happily.
PETER. What? Her children can play anywhere—in China if they want to! Are you in your senses? A fine reward for giving a child all your affection— to live to see her children playing in China. No, sir! I propose to keep my household together, by your leave. [Banging his clenched fist on the desk.] It's my plan. [Cleans his pipe, looking at JAMES from time to time. JAMES posts the letters in a mail-box outside the door. PETER goes to the window, calling off.] Otto! Run to the office and tell Mr. Frederik he may come in now. [The voice of a gruff Dutchman: "Het is pastoor's dag." (It is the pastor's day.)] Ah, yes; I had forgotten. It's William's day to take flowers to the Pastor. [A knock is heard and, as PETER calls "Come in," WILLIAM, a delicate child of eight, stands timidly in the doorway of the dining-room, hat in hand.] How are you to-day, William? [Pats WILLIAM on the shoulder.
WILLIAM. The Doctor says I'm well now.
PETER. Good! Then you shall take flowers to the church. [Calls off.] A big armful, Otto!
MARTA has entered with a neatly folded, clean handkerchief which she tucks into WILLIAM'S breast pocket.
PETER. [In a low voice, to JAMES.] There's your example of freedom! William's mother, old Marta's spoiled child, was free. You remember Annamarie, James?—let to come and go as she pleased. God knows where she is now … and here is William with the poor old grandmother…. Run along with the flowers, William. [Gives WILLIAM some pennies as he goes.] How he shoots up, eh, Marta?
MARTA. [With the hopeless sorrow of the old, as she passes off.]
Poor child … poor child.
PETER. Give Katie more freedom, eh? Oh, no! I shall guard her as I would guard my own, for she is as dear to me as though she were mine, and, by marriage, please God, she shall be a Grimm in name.
JAMES. Mr. Grimm, I—I wish you would transfer me to your branch house in
Florida.
PETER. What? You who were so glad to come back! James, you need a holiday. Close your desk. Go out and busy yourself with those pet vegetables of yours. Change your ideas; then come back sane and sensible, and attend to your work. [Giving a last shot at JAMES as he passes into the office and FREDERIK re-enters.] You don't know what you want!