Robert. (Recognizing Trast, cries out, then extends his arms as if to urge him away) What do you want here?--In this dive?--Do you know who we are?--We sell ourselves!--(He laughs) Look at me! No, I can't bear it! (He covers his face with hands)
(At the sight of Trast, Alma shamefacedly slinks away. Michalski and Auguste follow her into kitchen.)
Trast. Pull yourself together! What has happened?
Heinecke. (Hat in hand) He acted very undutifully, Count! First he wanted to take us off to India, now he wants to take our money away. I'm just going to the bank--Whole forty thousand marks, Count, I have the honor--(Bowing) Count! (He goes out)
Trast. Yes, I understand. (Lays his hand on Robert's shoulder) Was Herr Muhlingk here?
Robert. My friend! Thank you--I had forgotten!
Trast. What is it?
Robert. He wants my accounts. He shall have them. (Hurries to trunk which he opens and feverishly looks for something)
Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) You can thank the Lord, Count, you're not married! There are right ungrateful sons in this world!
Trast. (To himself) You talk like a mother--(Realising what he has said) Pah! Trast, that wasn't nice!