I don’t need to ask if——[Pours the dram.]
Cob.
No—no—go ahead—just a little more.
Jo.
There!—now it is running over.
Cob.
No matter, I shan’t spill a drop. [Bends trembling to the table. Lips to the glass, sucks up the liquor.] He, he, he!
Daan.
Ginger cake? If you please. [Yawns.]
Marietje.