Scene 2
Karl (enters).
Good-morning, mother. Now, Clara, how would you fancy me, suppose I weren’t your brother?
Clara.
A gold chain? Where’ve you got that?
Karl.
What do I toil and sweat for? Why do I work two hours longer than the others every night? I like your cheek.
Mother.
Quarrelling on a good Sunday morning? For shame, Karl.
Karl.