Frau Heinecke. (Throwing herself between them) You'll break my arm-chair.
Robert. I suppose that comes from our friends on the Avenue whom you hold in such high esteem!
Frau Heinecke. Of course it does!
Robert. From our dear Herr Kurt, I suppose?
Frau Heinecke. Well, yes!
Robert. (With a wild laugh) There it is, then! (He throws the chair to the floor, breaking it and kicking the pieces away from him)
Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) My beautiful arm-chair! (She picks up the pieces carrying them to the left--then she sinks down on stool)
Heinecke. This is getting uncomfortable! (He starts to go out, right)
Robert. (Standing in his way) Will you give that blood-money back? Yes or no?
Heinecke. Give it back? (Contemptuously) Huh!