Hans. Do you believe it is the Christ-Child, Gretel?
Gretel [slowly]. I—I don't know.
Hans [decidedly]. I do. It must be. We put the candle there for Him—and then He came. And you made toast for Him—where is His toast, Gretel?
Gretel. Oh, Hans! I dropped it when I went to the door!
Hans [hurries to pick it up]. Never mind. It didn't hurt it a bit.
Gretel [takes it and brushes it]. He won't care. Mother's hearth isn't a bit dusty. [Both go to Friedel.]
Gretel [timidly offering him the toast]. Hans and I thought you would be hungry, and so we made you some toast.
Friedel. Oh, I am, I am. [Takes a bite and turns to them.] I haven't had anything to eat since—since—Oh, I can't remember! When was it? [Puts his hand to his head.]
Mother [drawing him gently to lean against her]. There, never mind. Eat now.
[Gretel and Hans draw away again.