[The Devil turns a look of reproachful and frigid dignity on Agnus. The light dances about in joyful hatred.
THE DEVIL (to the light)
Get out of here, you Teutonic accident! (To Agnus) Dug a little share for me, didn’t you? Married next month!
AGNUS (alarmed)
I don’t want her to marry you.
THE DEVIL
Then why tell me to “accept, Fanny, go and get the others,” eh?
AGNUS
Didn’t have to have time to explain everything to you?
THE DEVIL