Your hair should be nearly dry by now, eh?
Ida (turning her head lovingly, and throwing back her hair).
Just feel!
Mrs Buchner (doing so).
Oh dear—you should have washed it earlier, child!
Ida.
What a bother the old mane is; I’ve been scorching myself at the stove for the last half hour (taking from one of the boxes a yellow silk purse and holding it out to Augusta). Pretty colour, eh?—It’s only just a little joke; has he had many purses?
Augusta (busy with her jacket, which she is brushing; shrugs her shoulders).
Don’t know (she looks critically with her short-sighted eyes at the purse). H’m, h’m, rather loosely knitted (immediately returning to her jacket). The plush is done for.