Augusta.
No! No!—No! No!
Mrs Buchner (in a cooing manner).
You’re nervous, dear child. (She goes into the porch and opens the outer door, a little timidly.) Is anyone there?—(Resolutely) Is anybody there? (Pause—no answer.)
Mrs Scholz (irritated).
Fine doings! As if I hadn’t had enough excitement—it’s enough to kill one. You’re always complaining of something.
Augusta (snappishly).
Complaining! Complaining!—Haven’t I got enough to complain about?
Mrs Scholz.
You behave charmingly to your mother, I must say.