[Soothingly.] Ah, mother, do me the favour….
MRS. KRAUSE
No-o! I don't see why. Such a goose like that … That's an end o' all justice … such a sl…!
HOFFMANN
Oh, but mother, I must really beg of you to control—
MRS. KRAUSE
[Doubly enraged.] Instead o' sich a crittur takin' a hand on the farm…. God forbid! She pulls her sheets 'way over her ears. But her Schillers and her Goethes and sich like stinkin' dogs—that can't do nothin' but lie; they c'n turn her head. It's enough to make you sick!
[She stops, quivering with rage.
HOFFMANN
[Trying to pacify her.] Well, well—she will be all right now … perhaps it wasn't quite right … perhaps….