[Draws himself up, throws back his head, stares at BECKER; his nostrils tremble.] Oh, indeed!—Becker. [_To PFEIFER.] Is he the man?…
[The clerks nod.
BECKER
[Insolently.] Yes, Mr. Dreissiger, yes! [Pointing to himself.] This is the man. [Pointing to DREISSIGER.] And that's a man too!
DREISSIGER
[Angrily.] Fellow, how dare you?
PFEIFER
He's too well off. He'll go dancing on the ice once too often, though.
BECKER
[Recklessly.] You shut up, you Jack-in-the-box. Your mother must have gone dancing once too often with Satan to have got such a devil for a son.