Leonore. Do you mean to say that?--that--they--bought my brother's--(As Trast nods) Oh, God!
Trast. It goes without saying that personally I offer no criticism of them whatever. That is the customary means of ending such relationships. But I am afraid for my friend.
Leonore. (Her face in her hands) How can I ever make it up to him?
Trast. Do you feel that it is your duty?
Leonore. My duty? My whole being revolts against this disgusting practice of my home!--Pay!--always pay! pay for honor, pay for love, pay for justice! We can afford it, we have the money. (Throws herself into a chair. Then springing up) Forgive me! I don't know what I'm doing! I spoke of my family as though they were strangers.
Trast. Perhaps they are more strangers to you than you think!
Leonore. (Confused) If you were only right! (As he appears to listen to something outside) What is it?
Trast. Isn't that your brother's voice?
Leonore. (At the door) Yes, with some of his friends.
Trast. (Aside) I shouldn't have let him keep the revolver. (Taking his hat) Is he going to the office?