WEHRHAHN
Prepare the record, Glasenapp. No, Mrs. Schulze, you'll have to remain here for the present. The matter will be finished soon enough.—So let us prepare the record …
[He leans back in his chair and stares at the ceiling as if collecting his thoughts for the purpose of dictating.
LANGHEINRICH
[Softly to DR. BOXER.] Look at Mrs. Fielitz, will you, Doctor? Eh? Ain't she grown yellow as a lemon peel?—If only that thing don't go crooked, I tell you. [He shows to DR. BOXER, who wards him off with a gesture, something secretly in his hollow hand.] D'you want to see somethin'? Eh? That's a fuse, that's what.
DR. BOXER
[Softly.] Where did you get that from?
LANGHEINRICH
It ain't me that knows! That might come from anywhere in the world. It might even come from Fielitz's cellar. Yessir. Maybe you don't believe that? An' if I wanted to be nasty, Doctor …