One moment, Pastor. My father and my mother--what do you know about them? My father I don't know myself, but my mother? Ah yes, I know her well; and from her I have inherited my life's melody. This melody has a beautiful text. Do you want to know what it is, Pastor? It is, "Thou shalt steal. Steal everything for thyself--thy life's happiness--thy love--all--all. Only others will enjoy it in the end." Yes, Pastor, my mother is a thief. On St. John's eve she came stealthily over yonder garden hedge; and as my mother, so am I! And now, Pastor, ask me no more; I need all my senses, for to-day my entire happiness is at stake! There--now you know all!
Pastor.
Yes, now I know! Farewell, Miss Marie. I will forget this day, perhaps; you--never----
[Exit.]
Gertrude.
[Enters door L.] Was that George, who just now left?
Marie.
Were you at that door, listening?
Gertrude.
Marie!--For shame!!!!!