William.
Why—I—you see (in irritable tones). Ugh! Darling, it’s not an enlivening subject!—How’s Father?
Ida.
He’s asleep now! but what is the matter with you?
William (walking about).
The feeling will come, no one knows how. (Suddenly grinding his teeth) I tell you, there are moments—when that rage of despair seizes you, those are the moments—I can well understand—in those moments a man might throw himself head first from five stories high on to the pavement.—The idea becomes positively alluring.
Ida.
God forbid! You mustn’t give way to such ideas, Willy!
William.
Why not, I should like to know? What should such fellows as I do, crawling between heaven and earth?—Useless creatures! Exterminate themselves! That would be something. They would at least have done one useful thing.